The Queen
by sneetchstar
Summary: Speculation fic, starting pretty much where season 4 left off.  Slight spoilers for those who haven't seen all of season 4!
1. Chapter 1

"This crown is heavy," Guinevere whispers into Arthur's ear. The coronation feast is in full swing and with everyone eating they have some time to talk to one another relatively uninterrupted.

Arthur chuckles, telling her, "Yes, in more ways than one sometimes." Then he kisses her earlobe lightly before straightening back up. The light caress of his lips makes her skin tingle.

She looks at him, up at his crown, then back at him, a smirk on her face.

"What?" he asks.

"My crown is prettier," she smiles.

"Well of _course_ it is. A king shouldn't have a _pretty_ crown."

"Mmm," she nods noncommittally.

"You have to admit, I would look pretty silly wearing your crown."

"True," she laughs, reaching for her goblet.

Arthur seems lost in thought for a few moments as he silently eats his food. He is staring off into space, deep in thought. Or memory.

"You all right, Arthur?" Merlin has come to refill his goblet.

"Hmm? Oh. Yes, Merlin, fine, thanks," Arthur says. Merlin notices a slight flush in the king's cheeks, and suddenly he is very curious about what had distracted Arthur. _But perhaps I don't want to know,_ he thinks.

Arthur looks over at his wife. His queen. She is radiant. _More beautiful each time I see her,_ he thinks. _And now that I know what I've been missing out on all this time…_ He allows the thought to go unfinished and shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

"Guinevere," he turns to her.

"Yes, Husband?" she smiles.

_God, I love the sound of that._ "Don't think I didn't notice that… _look_ you gave me at the end of the coronation."

She feigns innocence. "What look would that be, Sire?"

He leans in close, muttering in her ear, "The look that made me want to rip your dress off and have you in front of the entire kingdom."

She looks at him levelly. "Well, _you_ were the one that decided to kiss me. I don't think that's standard protocol for a coronation."

"I was winging it," he shrugs. "And I couldn't help myself. The minute you knelt in front of me…"

"What?" she asks, curious.

"Let's just say that I had trouble keeping my eyes where they _should_ be."

"So it's _my_ fault?"

"Well, clearly." He grins at her, and his eyes drop to her cleavage again, making his point for him.

She glares at him with mock severity. He leans over and kisses her again.

"I'll deal with you later, my delicious king," she whispers into his lips, eyes opening slowly.

"_That_ would be the look," Arthur groans and adjusts his position in his seat again. Merlin returns, with a goblet full of very cold water. He places it in front of the king, whispering, "Thought you might need something, um, _cold,_ right now," before hastily disappearing.

_Did he just… No, he wouldn't be that brash. Would he?_ Nevertheless, Arthur picks up the goblet and downs the entire thing quickly, fighting the urge to just pour the contents into his lap. He puts the heel of his hand to his forehead for a moment, pain surging through his head. _How did he get that so cold?_

"Arthur?" Gwen asks, noting his strange behavior.

The pain passes as quickly as it came, and he says, "Hmm? Oh, I'm fine. Just drank that too fast, I think." _At least it distracted me from thinking about… well, that didn't last long._

"Wine?"

"Water. It was really cold, and it hurt my head," he explains.

She gives him a puzzled look, but a courtier approaching to pay his respects to the new queen diverts her attention. She speaks politely with him for a moment before he leaves, bowing to them both.

"I have to say, serving at a feast is much more interesting than dining at one," she says to Arthur once they are alone again.

"How so?" he is intrigued.

"Oh, you have no idea how much fun we – I mean, the servants – have when they're not within earshot of a noble."

"Oh really?" Arthur looks as though be may get offended, and Gwen diffuses him immediately.

"Nothing bad or immoral or disloyal, I promise. Just a little… naughty. A lot of gossip, that kind of thing. A lot of poking fun at the nobility. How much this one is eating, how much that one has had to drink, who pinched who's backside, which Lord is dallying with what Lady under the table…"

"Guinevere!" Arthur laughs, taken aback.

"Oh, Arthur, really, what did you expect? That we were back there concentrating on our jobs, slaving away like drone bees? Servants are people, just like everyone else," she reminds him, her voice just a tiny bit reproachful.

"I guess I still sometimes forget that," he says, twisting his mouth to the side thoughtfully, a little embarrassed.

"And you will do nothing at all about it, either," she informs him. "It's the only fun some of them get, and no harm is being done, so leave it be."

"I wasn't going to do anything," he says, knowing better than to argue. "Honest."

She leans over and kisses him, quickly running her tongue along his lips before pulling away, leaving him just slightly dazed.

"How long till this feast is done?" he asks her, and she chuckles as she lifts her goblet to her lips.

An approaching lord, wishing for a few words, diverts Arthur's attention from his wife. Lord Owen, not one of Guinevere's favorite lords. Neither is he one of Arthur's.

She quietly surveys the room, taking a sip of her wine. Her eyes pass over the faces of servants she calls friends, courtiers, and Arthur's closest knights. She avoids her brother's face. She is still angry with him.

Her quiet moment to herself is interrupted by the voice of Nagging Guilt, her nemesis since the betrayal. He lives in the deepest, darkest recesses of her brain and he likes to come out when Gwen's mind is not otherwise occupied.

_You don't deserve any of this,_ he says.

_Be quiet. I know I don't. But Arthur has forgiven me. So go away._

_ Forgiveness is not approval._

The Guilt is using her own father's words against her. She heard him say those very words to Elyan, many years ago, the first time he found himself in major trouble. He destroyed some property during a night of drunken revelry with some of his "friends."

_I can forgive you, son, but know this: Forgiveness is not approval. Never forget that,_ he had said.

"Guinevere?" Arthur's voice drifts into her consciousness, and her clouded face brightens.

"Yes, my lord?" she turns to him.

"Are you all right? You looked… troubled for a moment. And don't call me that," he smiles lovingly at her.

She smiles and looks down, blushing slightly at being caught at old habits. "Sorry. I know you hate that."

"I don't mind 'My lord' half as much as 'Sire.' Especially from you. Even before we were married I hated when you called me that." He lifts her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. Then he turns her hand and kisses her palm, his lips on the sensitive skin there lighting a fire in her belly, and she gasps just slightly, lips parting. Arthur sees this and it brings an impish smile to his face.


	2. Chapter 2

Finally the feast winds down, and Arthur and Guinevere are able to make their exit. As they walk through the corridors to their shared chambers (another thing Arthur insisted upon, once again showing disregard for years of tradition), Gwen's mind drifts back to their wedding the previous week.

Or, more specifically, their wedding night.

xXx

_He was so nervous, though he'd deny it to his last breath. So was I. The culmination of five years of longing, hoping, despairing, wishing, and praying was about to happen and we were as skittish as a couple of colts._

_ I can only imagine how he must have paced and fretted waiting for my arrival. One tradition he'd forgotten to dispose of: the wedding night preparations. Separate preparations. I know now that he had secretly been hoping to unwrap me from my wedding dress like I was his beautiful gift, and the pout on his face when I was whisked away by some of the elder maids to be "prepared" for our wedding night was priceless. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from laughing._

_ My attendants undressed and re-dressed me with expert efficiency, and the images flashing through my mind's eye of Merlin attempting to assist a petulant and frustrated Arthur while trying not to think specifically about_ what _he was preparing his master for were enough to make me want to laugh out loud. And I did, a few times. I'm sure the maids chalked it up to nerves. _

_ And there were plenty of those. I had some idea about what to expect, and none of it was reassuring. Pain. Blood. The fact that it was possible that I won't enjoy it the first time. And Arthur. Had he ever… with someone else…? I didn't even want to think about it. It was a very real possibility. After all, he was every bit the arrogant swaggering Prince for a long time. On the other hand, he did devote an awful lot of time to his training. And I don't recall ever seeing him in the company of any lady for any appreciable amount of time. At least not while he wasn't under the influence of an enchantment, anyway. But the question was still out there, hovering. And it was certainly not something I could, or would, ask him._

_ By the time I was escorted to our chambers, he was pacing like a caged tiger, stalking the length of the room._

_ "Arthur."_

_ He stopped mid-stride, wheeling around. He hadn't heard me enter and lock the door. "Guinevere. You look…" he trailed off._

_ "Thank you. You, too," I chuckled nervously, trying to lighten the mood. He looked magnificent as always, even though he was clad in just a pair of soft black trousers, ones I've seen thousands of times, actually, but_ he _is what always takes my breath away._

_ I had been dressed in a white linen nightdress covered by a soft red dressing gown, my hair loose. I didn't think I looked all that spectacular, but who was I to disagree with my very obviously impressed new husband?_

_ He started walking towards me, so I advanced as well, willing my feet to move, meeting him halfway. He hesitantly reached a hand out, bringing it to my cheek, touching lightly, gently. He stared a moment, something clearly on his mind._

_ "Guinevere, I… I need to tell you something."_

_ I remember being worried at his words. Worried that he was about to give me the sordid details of his past. I didn't really want to know. I didn't care. But I waited, biting my lip._

_ "I… I'veneverdonethisbefore," he admitted, running the words together._

_ My teeth had released their grip on my lower lip, and I remember my mouth falling open in surprise. And relief. And, if I am honest, pride in the realization that I would be the first and only woman he will have._

_ I didn't know what to say, so I said the only thing that made any sense at all._

_ "Well, neither have I."_

_ He laughed suddenly at this, relaxing some. But there was also a fleeting moment of relief on his face. Was it relief over his own predicament, or had he been worried that I had… with… Lancelot?_

_ I pushed that thought away, secure in the knowledge that soon it would be very clear that I have been nothing but virtuous._

_ Arthur had pulled me closer as he laughed, wrapping me in his arms. "You always have the right words for me," he said quietly, his hands starting to wander a bit on my back, venturing down to rest on my hips._

_ "I just… don't want to disappoint you." Suddenly serious again, he had said this into the top of my head, kissing my hair._

_ His skin was so warm, smelling of soap and fire and_ him. _Surprised by my own boldness, I kissed his chest without even thinking about it, and he inhaled sharply. Then he tipped my chin upwards, and I remember briefly losing myself in those unique blue-grey of his eyes._

_ "You could never disappoint me, Arthur. I love you. Very much. And you love me."_

_ "Very much," he echoed softly._

_ "That is all the experience we need."_

_ At that he leaned down and lifted me in his arms and strode to the bed. His breathing was heavy, but I knew it was not because he had exerted himself carrying me._

_ He kissed me, gently at first; gradually deepening, and I felt his tongue at my lips, asking for entrance. I smile every time he does that. This time was no different; I parted my smiling lips for him to kiss me hungrily, the way he wanted to. The way I wanted him to._

_ I don't know what he was expecting from me that night, but I'm sure I behaved wantonly and not at all ladylike._

_ I was melting in his arms. At least that's how it felt. I felt like butter left out in the sun as his lips and tongue explored mine, tasting, sucking, even nibbling. Of course I gave back as good as he was giving, pressing against him, taking his delicious lower lip into my mouth and sucking on it before he finally broke the kiss, breathless, and set me gently on the bed. Merlin had thoughtfully turned down the covers before he left. I could just imagine the multitudinous shades of pink his ears must have turned as he attended this particular duty that night._

_ Hesitating for just a moment, he joined me on the bed, lying on his side beside me. His eyes surveyed me, as if he wasn't sure where he wanted to begin. I reached for his hand and guided it to the belt of my dressing gown._

_ I was as eager for this as he was, I think._

_ Understanding my meaning, he pulled the tie loose and eased the gown open and slid his hands up to my shoulders. I sat up to remove the robe from my shoulders, then scooted it out from beneath me before dropping it on the floor._

_ The gown they dressed me in was thin but demure. But Arthur looked at me again as if I was the most beautiful, desirable creature in the world. Then he paused once again._

_ "If you are uncomfortable, we don't have to take the gown off completely," he said softly, trying to be considerate, his fingers fidgeting with the thin white fabric._

_ His sweetness was almost too much to bear._

_ I was already behaving shamelessly, so I gathered up my courage and climbed off the bed, standing beside it. Arthur sat halfway up, leaning on his elbow, curious._

_ Willing my fingers to be still, I raised my hands to the laces holding the nightdress closed at my chest and started to undo them, watching Arthur as I did so._

_ I had his complete attention._

_ Once I had it open enough to remove, I took a deep breath and I just_ went _for it. I slid the gown from my shoulders and it dropped to the floor._

_ "Dear God, Guinevere, you are unbelievably beautiful," he finally managed to choke out. His voice was quiet and almost unrecognizable._

_ My heart was pounding furiously. I was standing there, naked, in front of Arthur. My husband. My love. My king. I felt no embarrassment or shyness, which surprised me. The only thing I felt was a heated desire in my stomach, spreading outward to my limbs while it concentrated itself between my legs._

_ "Come here," he whispered hoarsely. Only then did I notice the evidence of his own desire inside his trousers. I held my breath as I rejoined him on the bed._

_ He reached a hand out, not sure where to touch first. Finally he settled on the side of my neck, apparently not wanting to alarm me._

_ Little did he know that the parts of me he wanted to touch were positively aching,_ crying out _for him to touch them._

_ "Arthur," his name escaped my lips, a whisper._

_ He bent to kiss me, and he slid his hand a bit lower. I reached out, placing my hand on his chest. Then I slid it down to his stomach._

_ "Arthur," I said again, "touch me. Please."_

_ I'll never forget the look that was on his face as long as I live. I don't know if it was caused by my brazen words or my brazen hands at the waistband of his trousers, slyly starting to remove them. Perhaps it was both._

_ He kissed me again, and finally he moved his hand to my breast, cupping it in his palm, caressing the skin, feeling its weight. I think I moaned then._

_ I felt him smile against my lips. Then he reached down to help me remove his trousers, and suddenly there were no more secrets between us._

_ "You are beautiful, too, Arthur," I told him, my eyes taking all of him in. I tried not to stare too long at_ that _part of him, but I don't think I succeeded._

_ Ever gentle, he leaned over me, kissing me again, and his hand returned to my breast, eager to continue its exploration, and I was eager to let him._

_ I was also eager to do some exploring of my own. But then he kissed his way down to my neck, which distracted me momentarily. His lips on each new part of my body were causing torrents of sensation through me. I gasped as his tongue snaked out against the skin on my neck._

_ I was reeling already, and we'd only just begun._

_ I remembered my own curiosity, my hand still resting on his stomach. Just inches away. I willed it lower, my fingers caressing the skin on his stomach, dragging across his navel, lower._

_ Arthur paused, and I stopped, worried that I was doing the wrong thing._

_ "Don't stop," he whispered into my ear before taking my earlobe into his mouth._

_ Okay, then._

_ Distracted by his hands and his lips on my own body, my hand somehow found him. I touched him gently, and he moaned into my neck, kissing lower. My fingers got bolder, encouraged by his actions, and I wrapped them around him, squeezing slightly. He groaned into my breasts, taking one into his mouth, kissing, running his tongue over my nipple, around it, and I cried out. I couldn't help it. I knew it wasn't proper, but it was out before I could stop it._

_ Arthur seemed to enjoy hearing it, because he doubled his efforts. I think he was trying to make me do it again._

_ I was still holding him in my hand, but I had once again been distracted by what he was doing to me. Tentatively I moved my hand on his length, marveling at the curious sensation. It felt like nothing I have ever felt in my hands before; soft and firm at the same time._

_ This time he cried out, and I smiled into his hair._

_ Then._

_ Oh, God, then…_

_ His hand slid down my stomach, lower, and touched me. There. There, where I had been aching for him for so long, longer than I would be readily willing to admit. His fingers on me felt unbelievable. They felt very different from my own fingers. There were a few times that the ache for him within me grew too great for me to bear, and I succumbed to temptation. But this was very different. Better. Because he was actually_ here, _actually touching me._

_ Oddly, I distinctly remember wondering if Arthur had ever touched_ himself _where my hand now rested. Did he think of me when he did? What would he think if he knew that I had touched myself, thinking of him?_

_ When his fingers found that most sensitive point, my hips jerked upward from the bed and I cried out again, louder this time. Distracted beyond all thought by this action mixed with his lips and tongue and teeth at my breasts, I reflexively squeezed his manhood tighter in my grasp, and my hand inadvertently slid along its length, this time with none of my prior gentleness._

_ Arthur inhaled sharply, and I loosened my grasp and apologized._

_ "No," he said, raising his face to mine. His eyes were dark and dazed, almost like he'd been drugged. "Do that some more," he said, his voice rough._

_ Oh._

_ So I did, and he moaned into my neck. A few more strokes and he was gently removing my hand from him, his own trembling with need._

_ "Guinevere," he had whispered into my ear as he positioned himself over me, between my legs, which I gladly parted for him._

_ Does he know that he can turn me into liquid just by saying my name?_

_ He leaned down and kissed me again, softly, almost worshipful. "I don't want to hurt you," he had whispered against my lips. I could feel his manhood_ so _close to me. It was starting to make me feel a little insane._

_ "It's all right, Arthur," I breathed the words, scarcely a whisper. "There is no avoiding it." I kissed his neck a few times, tasting the sweet saltiness of his now-sweaty skin on my tongue._

_ "I… I want this so much," he had said then. I remember wondering why he was hesitating. Was he really that concerned about causing me pain?_

_ "So do I," I admitted then, hoping that it would reassure him. He lifted his head and looked at me, a look of awe on his beautiful face. Slowly he smiled, and the smile gradually turned into a devilish grin._

_ I gathered my courage again and reached down between us, took him in my hand and gently guided him where we both wanted him to go. He groaned again as I did this. I let go with my hand and he slowly pushed inside me, as gently as he could._

_ It was all very strange. At first it was fine, actually pleasurable. I remember smiling and thinking that it wasn't as bad as I'd been told. Then the dam broke. He paused halfway, and with a whispered, "I'm sorry, Love," he pushed the rest of the way in, and a sharp pain shot through me. I cried out again, this time from pain._

_ He stilled and dropped his lips to mine, trying to kiss away the discomfort, his hands caressing gently, wiping away a single tear that I hadn't realized escaped from one of my eyes, waiting as patiently as he could until I was ready._

_ Slowly the pain faded, and I realized I had been gripping his shoulders rather tightly. He made nothing of it. I loosed my grasp and slid my palms around his shoulders, bringing my hands up into his hair, sliding them down to cup his cheeks._

_ "Okay?" he whispered, looking into my eyes._

_ I nodded, and kissed him. "Yes, Arthur."_

_ He claimed my lips with his own again and moved his hips back, sliding out. Still a tad uncomfortable, but the sharpness was no longer there. My body was still adjusting to his intrusion, but the discomfort lessened with each thrust he made, still gentle, until the pain was only a distant memory and I was once again mindless with the need of him._

_ "Arthur…" I breathed. His lips were at my neck again. _

_ He started to increase his speed, his intensity. This may have had something to do with the fact that one of my legs had hooked itself around his hip._

_ It was like nothing I'd ever experienced, being there with him, being as close as two people could be. I felt so heavy yet completely weightless. I was soaring and drowning, hot and cool, lost and found._

_ He was growling now. Yet I wasn't frightened; I was excited, seeing the animal side of him this way: with passion and love instead of rage or determination. It was very… erotic. I liked it._

_ That heat was spreading through me again, this time coming straight from the spot at which we were joined. I could no longer think straight. I'd never felt such pleasure, such joy. My whole body was tingling, humming, and it was building, higher and stronger, until it could no longer be contained and burst forth from me like the sun coming forth from behind the clouds._

_ I shouted then. Shamelessly and like a wanton hussy, I shouted out the joy of my release. Arthur can be disappointed in me later, at that moment I didn't care._

_ And apparently neither did he, because he own shouts presently joined mine as his seed flooded into me, hot and wonderful._

_ "I love you," he gasped, collapsing carefully over me. "I love you more than I thought myself capable of loving anyone," he muttered into my ear, kissing my neck._

xXx

"Guinevere?" Arthur's voice snaps her out of her reverie.

"Hmm?" Gwen shakes her head slightly and smiles at her husband.

"You're awfully quiet. What's on your mind, my love?"

"Oh, nothing. I was, um, just thinking," she bites back a smile and hopes the heat rising to her face isn't accompanied by a blush.

"What about?" he asks, a glint in his eye.

_I guess I am blushing._ "Our wedding night," she admits.

Arthur laughs, and they stop walking because he has pulled her into his arms. "Oh really?" He inclines his head and kisses her there in the corridor, caring very little if anyone should see them.

_I love being able to do this without fear of discovery,_ he thinks as he teases her lips with his tongue until she parts them for him, allowing him to plunder the dark moist warmth of her mouth. Gwen kisses him back just as hungrily, tipping her head back as she presses closer. She feels her crown start to slip, and she breaks away quickly, laughing, her hand coming up to steady the heavy jewelry.

"Almost fell off," she giggles.

He smiles and tucks her hand into the crook of his arm, nice and proper, and they continue on their way to their chambers.

xXx

_One thing was confirmed in my mind that night. When we are alone and behind closed doors, Arthur is a different Arthur. He is_ my _Arthur. The_ I can be myself _Arthur. He is not the beloved young king, nor the charismatic leader, nor the brave and fearless warrior. Those are all a part of him, aspects of his true self, yes. But my Arthur is tender, gentle, and thoughtful. He is vulnerable, open, and unguarded. He is humble, generous, and sometimes bashful. It is an Arthur for my eyes alone. He doesn't need to_ be _anything for me. Just himself._


	3. Chapter 3

They reach their chambers, and Arthur opens the door for her. She enters and he follows, taking care to lock the door behind them.

He turns to her and gently removes the crown from her head, setting it carefully on the heavy long table there. Then he removes his own crown and tosses it gently beside hers, careless by comparison. He turns back to her, lifts his hands to her forehead and gently rubs it with his thumbs, massaging away the marks the crown has left indented in her skin there.

Arthur once again pulls her into his arms, kissing her briefly before raising one hand and brushing his knuckles lightly against the skin of her cheek, caressing down to her neck, coming to rest at the exposed tops of her breasts, which are rising and falling with her deep, rapid breathing.

Gwen reaches down and undoes his sword belt, discarding it to the floor with a loud clatter that makes her giggle.

"Why do you have to wear all this? Were we in danger of being attacked during my coronation?" she asks, helping him remove his chainmail.

"It's traditional. Plus, lately, one never knows," he says ruefully, stealing a kiss once the mail shirt is over his head. _There are advantages to having a wife who knows armor,_ he thinks, much preferring her assistance over Merlin's.

"Your outfits can be as complicated as mine, you know that?" she asks as he steals another kiss, this time longer, searing heat into her interior.

"At least I don't have ridiculous laces or rows of tiny buttons," he complains.

"Yes, about that: Stop ruining my dresses. The maids are becoming cross with you and I am more embarrassed each time I have to bring them one to mend. We've been married only a week and it's been three dresses already, Arthur." She stops and looks at him with her hands on her hips. "I appreciate your… _enthusiasm,_ but I promise you I will start mending them myself in spite of your wishes, if you continue to treat my dresses like rags."

He knows she is serious about this. _I'm actually surprised she hasn't started mending them herself already,_ he thinks, familiar with her often flagrant disregard for his wishes in such matters. "Yes, Love," he says, striving to appear contrite.

He is down to his shirt and trousers, having just stepped out of his boots. Mindful of Guinevere's recent request—no, command—he gently turns her around and starts to work on the row of laces down the back of her dress, cursing softly as he does so.

She obligingly moves her hair out of the way and distinctly hears him muttering something about "Blasted laces" and "feel like a maid."

"If you prefer, I can call a maid in, and…"

"No," he says firmly. He leans against her, and says softly against her neck, "Despite my grumblings, undressing you is one of my greatest pleasures."

Gwen's eyes drift close and he brushes his lips against the tender skin where her neck meets her shoulder. He then bites it lightly and she yelps and giggles as he returns his attention to her dress.

_Why is he undressing me here?_ she wonders, realizing they are still just inside the chamber doors, not in the sleeping quarters.

"There we are," Arthur announces, and Guinevere feels the dress loosen and he slides it from her shoulders.

The dress falls, pooling in a great mass around her legs. She starts to step out of it when Arthur lifts her bodily from the dress, leaving it there.

"Oh!" she exclaims in surprise. She kicks her shoes off in mid-air, and they drop to the floor.

He carries her in her thin shift the few steps over to the long table, kicks a chair out of the way, and sets her down so she is seated atop the table, facing him.

"Arthur, what…" she starts and her words are once again stopped, this time by a kiss as he leans into her, leaning her back into the arms he has wrapped around her back.

He kisses her passionately, and she returns his passion, her hands around his neck, up into his hair, then down, pulling insistently at his shirt.

"God, I love it when you get aggressive," he groans, breaking away and pulling his shirt off before reaching down for the hem of her shift, pulling it upwards, running his hands along her legs as he goes.

He scoots the garment up almost to her hips, and she wiggles slightly to allow him to release it from beneath her so he can pull it up over her head. She takes the opportunity to reach down and undo his trousers, and he lets them fall and steps out of them.

Guinevere pulls him to her, spreading her knees apart so he can come close. She leans forward and kisses his neck, his collarbones; her hands tracing the lines of the muscles on his broad shoulders. Arthur buries his face in her hair, kissing her ear, her neck.

He lets a hand drop between her legs, touching, stroking, bringing forth moans of pleasure from her that make him smile. He bends to take a breast in his mouth, kissing and sucking, spurred on by her hands in his hair, holding him to her.

Arthur eases her back onto the table and leans over her, sliding easily into her. Her elbow bumps into their discarded crowns and she absently shoves them further down the table, out of reach.

"Oh…" Gwen gasps, slightly shocked by what they are doing. _Not what so much as where._

Arthur bends over and kisses her as he thrusts, his hands holding her face gently, lovingly. He leans back with a groan as he feels her legs come up to circle his waist. His hands stroke the skin of her stomach, up to her breasts, holding them in his hands, running his palms across her taut nipples.

"Arthur," she whispers, dropping her head back, sinking back flat onto the table as she brings her hands up over his, holding them, guiding them, encouraging them.

He bites his lower lip, gazing down at her. _Beautiful, wise, and passionate. How on earth did I get so lucky?_

Guinevere is starting to gasp beneath him, her head tossing from side to side. "Oh… Arthur… oh… oh…"

Her legs tighten around him and her hips lift from the table, shoving against him as she climaxes with several more gasps. Her hands clutch at his, still on her breasts, and he responds by thrusting harder, faster, feeling his own come upon him quickly, encouraged by the vision beneath him on the table.

He roars and drives deeply within her, releasing into her with a giant flood of sensation that leaves him weak.

Arthur leans down to kiss her, and she rises up on her elbows again to meet him.

"I love you, my queen," he says to her.

"And I love you, my husband."

He eases away from her and helps her down from the table, pulling her into his arms, standing flush against each other.

_I just love the feel of her._

_ His body is so warm and inviting._

xXx

They finally make it to the bed, snuggled close together.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," Arthur says after a time.

"What? On the table?" Gwen lifts her head and looks at him.

"Yes. The table."

"For how long?" _Now I'm quite curious._

"Since the Castle of Fyrien."

"When I brought the dresses?"

"Yes. Why do you think I didn't get up?"

Guinevere laughs suddenly at this, burying her face into his neck.

"After that it was pretty much any time you were in here."

"You're joking." She lifts her head.

"I'm not. You would be shocked if you knew some of the thoughts that have come into my head about you over the past several years," he admits, eyes smoldering slightly as he looks at her.

_Not half as shocked as you would be if you knew I was probably having the same thoughts,_ Gwen thinks. She considers confessing. _Perhaps another time._

She raises her eyebrows at him. "Now I'm intrigued."

He blinks at her. "Really?"

She nods, blushing slightly. She hides her face in his neck and finds herself saying, "I've had some thoughts of my own, actually." _Damn. I wasn't going to say anything._

Arthur laughs. "Now _I'm_ intrigued."

"Don't make me say…" she pleads.

"No, I won't. Not right now, anyway," he teases, kissing her.

Gwen yawns, and Arthur leans over to blow out the candles on the bedside table.

They lay together in silence for a while, just holding each other.

"You remember how I would sometimes suddenly dash away from you?" he asks, tracing the lines of her back with his finger.

She looks up. "Yes?"

"Most of those times I left because if I had stayed with you any longer I would have tossed you over my shoulder and carried you off to do the most un-chivalrous things to you."

"Arthur!"

"Honest. Although sometimes you were the one that would dash away."

"You know why I did that," she frowns slightly.

"Yes, I do," he says, caressing her cheek and leaning down to kiss her nose. "You couldn't let yourself believe that it could happen. That we could happen."

She nods.

"Yes, but there's more to it than that, I think. You've always been stronger than me," he says, kissing her again.

Gwen rolls onto her stomach, rests her head on her hands atop Arthur's chest and looks at him, her expression puzzled. _This is high praise from him._

"Well, not _physically_ stronger, obviously. But you've had to deal with so much more hardship in your life than I have, and somehow you always come through and continue to be the most kindhearted and generous person I know. That can only come from the wisdom and inner strength that you have always had in abundance. It is one of the many reasons why I love you so much."

"I didn't know you felt that way, Arthur," she says tenderly, clearly touched by his words. "I was just trying to live my life."

"If everyone lived their lives that way, there would be no wars."

"That may be overstating things a bit," she protests.

"Perhaps a little. Still, I was always amazed at your ability to walk away from me when it was always so difficult for me to walk away from you."

"It wasn't as easy for me as you may think," she admits.

"Well, I'm actually glad to hear that, because I had been feeling a little hurt that you could so easily escape. Hmm. Think of all the kisses you missed out on…" he teases, lifting her chin up to illustrate his point.

"We'll only have the rest of our lives to make up for them," she smiles.

"And that is exactly what I intend to do, my sweet."


	4. Chapter 4

Gwen falls asleep in Arthur's arms, but Arthur lays awake for a while, his own thoughts now drifting to their wedding night, guided there by Guinevere's earlier confession.

xXx

_"I love you," I had gasped, collapsing carefully over her. I didn't want to crush her, not yet realizing that this petite beauty beneath me is actually a lot sturdier than she looks. "I love you more than I thought myself capable of loving anyone," I muttered into her ear and buried my face in her neck. She smelled wonderful. She always smells wonderful. Like those tiny purple flowers. And something else; something unique to her. A sweet, inviting smell that not only reminds me of home and comfort but also inflames my loins with want. No,_ need.

_"I love you so much, Arthur," she whispered to me, her delicate fingertips caressing my brow. I laid my head on her chest and squeezed her to me._

_ "Am I squashing you?"_

_ "Not at all," she said, but I rolled to the side anyway, because I didn't believe her._

_ "Are you… all right?" I asked, suddenly remembering the tear that escaped from her eye when I breached her maidenhead._

_ "Yes, Arthur, I'm fine. I knew there would be some discomfort. It's not your fault, Love."_

_ She has this ability to read my mind. I hadn't said anything about feeling bad about hurting her, but I was just about to do so._

_ We lay together, and I held her to me. I realized that I could live the rest of my life just like this and be the happiest man in the world._

_ My hands stroked the soft skin of her back. She was like a beautiful fawn, small and brown and velvety, slender and sleek and graceful._

_ "Arthur?"_

_ "Hmm?"_

_ "Can I ask you a question?"_

_ "Of course."_

_ "It is… a delicate question. And really none of my business. Never mind," she stammered, slipping back into one of her more endearing old habits of saying something and immediately backtracking from it._

_ "Guinevere." I stopped her._

_ "Sorry."_

_ "I want make this clear right away: never be afraid to ask or tell me anything. There are no secrets between us. What's mine is yours, and that includes information."_

_ She lifted her head then and smiled at me, making my heart speed up a bit. Then she granted me a leisurely kiss, her swollen lips meeting mine softly, lingering, savoring._

_ I love her lips._

_ "So what's your question?" I asked as I pulled away. Things were starting to stir again for me, but I didn't want to rush her again._

_ "How is it that you had never…" she left it hanging for me to fill in the blank._

_ "Ah._ That."

_ She buried her head into my shoulder, embarrassed. I laughed at her before I could help myself._

_ "I did warn you that it was none of my business," she said into my chest._

_ "Well, I'm going to tell you anyway." I lifted her face, un-burying it so I could kiss her. "Thing is, I was always more interested in my education and training – especially my training – to really have been interested in girls all that much. Sure, I noticed them here and there, especially as I got older, but I was too busy. I'd hear other knights talk of their conquests, and it all seemed so…_ meaningless. _Empty. I just didn't think it was right to treat a woman like that just because I could, you know?"_

_ I looked at her. She was staring at me, fascinated._

_ "Plus there was also that conundrum of mine with which you are well acquainted."_

_ "Ah, the old do-they-like-me-for-me-or-is-it-just-because-I'm-a-prince thing."_

_ "Yes, that."_

_ "I'm familiar with it, yes," she smiled at me again, teasing me now._

_ "Right. I wasn't interested in a woman who was only interested in me because of_ what _I was rather than who I was."_

_ "What of the other knights? Surely you must have taken some taunts."_

_ "Of course not. I was the prince. They weren't going to say anything. Not to my face, anyway. Oh, I'm sure there were some petty idiots that thought I was foolish or prudish or perhaps even preferred the company of men; but if anything was said, I never heard it. Which was fortunate. For_ them, _I mean."_

_ She nodded then, clearly understanding my meaning._

_ "Then," I looked right into her soft brown eyes, "once I noticed you, any thoughts, any_ stirrings _I had were aimed very clearly in your direction. My mind had been made up for me. It was you or no one, I gradually came to realize. Well, once I let myself admit it." I leaned down and kissed her again. Her proximity was intoxicating. I wondered if this feeling would lessen with time, and hoped that it wouldn't._

_ "Once you_ noticed _me?" she asked, smirking._

_ "Well, yes. I certainly can't say 'once I met you,' because you'd been Morgana's maid since we were all very young."_

_ "True. So when did this miraculous event occur, exactly?"_

_ "In Ealdor. When we went to help Merlin's mother and their village." I knew the answer immediately._

_ "Really? That far back?"_

_ "When you scolded me about turning my nose up at the food. A part of me stood up and took notice."_

_ She blushed. I remember wondering if my new bride had a dirty mind._

_ "Not_ that _part."_

_ She laughed loudly, confirming my suspicions. I smiled at the thought._

_ "It seemed that each time you yelled at me, I loved you more."_

_ "Because I treated you like a person, not a prince."_

_ "Exactly. I knew where I stood with you. I always know where I stand with you. And I know that you love me for_ who _I am."_

_ "I do. I would love you even if you were a farmer, making Merlin toil away in the fields all day," she said then, remembering our conversation at that ill-fated picnic._

_ Now it was my turn to laugh. I squeezed her again and kissed her hair._

_ "I'm thirsty. Would you like anything?" I asked. I was thirsty._

_ "Yes, some water would be lovely, thank you."_

_ I got up and filled two goblets and returned to the bed. Then I saw the result of our lovemaking in the form of dried and still-drying blood on her thighs, the sheet, and… I looked down. Some on me as well._

_ "Guinevere," I set the goblets down and sat beside her. "Are you sure you're all right?"_

_ She had been laying there with her eyes closed, lounging like a cat in a sunbeam._

_ "Yes, Arthur, I'm fine, why?"_

_ "Well, look," I guided her shoulders up into a seated position and touched her thigh gently._

_ "Oh. What a mess," she said casually. This took me aback, but then, she had spent most of her life as a maid as well as a frequent assistant to Gaius, and has probably seen much worse._

_ I handed her a goblet and walked over to the fireplace, where I filled an iron pot suspended there from a pitcher. Not enough water, so I went and fetched my washbasin, wrapping a towel around my waist, and filled it some more._

_ I swung the pot over the fire to warm the water._

_ "What are you doing?" she asked, leaning to look._

_ "Heating some water for you."_

_ "Thank you," she said, her voice sounding slightly surprised. She rose from the bed and put the dressing gown back on. She considered the bedsheets a moment before doing something curious._

_ Well, curious to me, anyway._

_ She walked to a wardrobe in the corner and brought forth a new sheet for the bed. Then she remade the bed. I tried to help but she shooed me away. "You'll be more of a hindrance than a help, Arthur," she scolded me. So I pulled her to me and kissed her to distraction._

_ "Arthur," she gasped, eyes half-open as she looked at me, "I would like to finish this."_

_ "So would I." I kissed her again._

_ She let me kiss her for another moment or two, then pulled away, laughing. "You know that's not what I meant!"_

_ Of course I knew. At the moment, though, I didn't care. But I let her finish her task, because I knew better than to keep her from it._

_ While she worked, I checked the water. It will be perfect by the time she finishes the bed. I grabbed a towel and placed it on a chair and had another one folded nearby._

_ "No one's going to want to…_ inspect _this, are they?" she had asked, sounding slightly disgusted by the common practice of marriage-bed inspection._

_ "Like who? I'm the king. It's not like there is someone above me that will need to confirm that you were a maiden," I shrug._

_ "Good, 'cause I'm fairly certain that this stain is not going to come out." She wadded the sheet into a ball and tossed it aside._

_ "Guinevere," I called her to the fireside, holding my hand out to her. She came over, and tested the water._

_ "Perfect," she declared. I knew it would be. "Um…" she started, unsure of how to proceed. I think she was shy of bathing herself in front of me._

_ "Sit," I said gently, indicating the chair with the towel on it._

_ "Arthur?"_

_ I kissed her then, and said, "Trust me, Guinevere."_

_ She sat, a puzzled look on her face as I wet a cloth in the warm water and kneeled at her feet. I reached forward, untied her robe, and eased her forward on the chair. She realized then what I was going to do, and tried to stop me._

_ "Arthur, you don't need to… I mean, it's very sweet of you to want to, but… I'm not sure if…"_

_ "Shhh. Let me do this for you, Love. Remember? No secrets," I kissed her knee. "Also no shyness," I kissed halfway down her shin. "And no embarrassment," I lifted her foot and kissed its arch. "Besides, I made this mess, the least I can do is clean it up," I tried joking, hoping to ease her tension a bit._

_ She laughed a little then, and stood a moment, sweeping the bottom half of the dressing gown out from beneath her, so it wouldn't get wet._

_ I reached for the cloth, squeezed the excess from it and took her left leg in my hand, pulling it towards me, her skin soft under my calloused fingers. I put the cloth to her thigh, gently cleaning the blood away. Her foot rested on my leg, small and delicate, and I remember being struck by how petite she was in comparison to myself. Rinsing the cloth and reapplying it, I applied it higher up, closer to her intimate parts._

_ She tensed up again as my hands came closer to her center, and I kissed her leg again, gently, trying to reassure her, remind her that she needn't be nervous._

_ "Relax, my sweet," I whispered to her as I dipped the cloth again._

_ I didn't want her to think that my wanting to do this was about getting a good look at her luscious little body. It wasn't, though it was certainly on my list of things I wanted to accomplish as soon as possible. I wanted to be close to her in every way possible, to know her as well as I know myself._

_ In a way, this act was more intimate than the consummation of our marriage._

_ Both her legs were now clean, and all that remained was the part of her that she was nervous about me touching this way._

_ "Guinevere," I said, "I will be gentle. Please let me finish."_

_ She relaxed again, and closed her eyes. I brought the cloth up to her, gently, carefully, removing the last of the blood from her._

_ I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't arousing. But this was not the time. I fleetingly thought of kissing her there, tasting her, bringing her pleasure with my tongue. I felt stirrings at the thought, so I shook it from my brain and decided to file it away for another time._

_ Gwen sighed, apparently finding some pleasure from my touch despite her reservations, and I smiled._

_ I was worried that she would be sore and that I would hurt her. If I did hurt her at all, she didn't let on._

_ Dropping the cloth in the basin, I reached down and lifted her foot, kissing the top. "All done," I said._

_ She opened her eyes again and the look she gave me melted my insides. "Thank you," she said, and leaned down to kiss me._

_ She sat back, and remembered. "What about you?"_

_ "Oh, um, I'm okay."_

_ "No. Your turn."_

_ Not a good idea. I knew as soon as she touched me I would be beyond all thought._

_ "I'm not sure that this is a good idea, Guinevere…"_

_ "Oh?" She raised an eyebrow at me. At the time I was only suspicious that she understood my meaning. I know now that she understood my meaning perfectly._

_ She stood, and pulled me to my feet. She was surprisingly strong. "Sit," she commanded, indicating the chair that she had just vacated._

_ "Um…"_

_ "Arthur."_

_ I sat. "Don't hold me responsible for anything that may happen," I decided to say. "You've been warned."_

_ She just raised her eyebrow at me again, closed her robe, and went back to the pot by the fire for fresh water. Then she knelt before me, removing the towel from my waist._

_ I peeked down. "Really, there's not that much blood there, you don't need—" my words were cut off by the warm, wet cloth touching my groin. My head fell back and I squeezed my eyes shut._

_ Her hand went away, then returned, now touching my manhood boldly, her hand inside the cloth wrapping about it, rubbing gently. I groaned and felt it respond to her touch, growing larger within her hand._

_ I was afraid to look at her. I knew if I did I would pounce. I gripped the sides of the chair's seat, hoping she wouldn't notice the whiteness of my knuckles or the shallowness of my breathing._

_ I heard the water slosh once more, and braced myself for the return of the cloth. I felt something warm and wet surround me, but it wasn't the cloth. I practically shot from the chair I was so surprised._

_ How did she know about_ that?

_"Ohhh…" I moaned then, giving in. "Guinevere…"_

_ She moved on me, stroking with her tongue, pulling me inside her mouth as deep as she could, her hands touching, squeezing gently, rubbing softly._

_ It was the most amazing feeling. The only thing better was the feeling of being inside her._

_ Her hair tickled my thighs. Her tongue drove me to absolute distraction. Her lips were beautiful as they kissed me this way. I was completely out of my mind, and coming close to my release._

_ I put my hand down on her shoulder. It was trembling just slightly. "Guinevere," I croaked, wanting her to – no,_ needing _her to stop before I released into her mouth. I wanted her to have some pleasure from this. I wanted to kiss her lips, her breasts, to hold her._

_ "Guinevere," I said again, now gently adding my other hand to her other shoulder and pulling her up to me._

_ "Arthur?" she asked, looking confused and embarrassed. Oh, no. I didn't want her to think I was unhappy with her, but before I could explain, she continued. "Are you… displeased?" She actually looked close to tears, and I held her tight to me._

_ "No, no, Love, not at all. You're wonderful. Incredible. I just was getting a little too close to…"_

_ "Oh."_

_ "And I wasn't sure what…"_

_ She giggled then, and said, "I guess I didn't think about that."_

_ "Also," I added, lifting her and repositioning her so she was straddling my lap. She angled her head at me, questioningly. "I wanted you to have some pleasure as well," I concluded, speaking the words low and soft against the skin of her neck, and she sighed._

_ "But I was," she said. I looked up at her beautiful face. Unique. Gorgeous. Wise._

_ "You were?" I asked then, snapping myself out of the study I was making of her features._

_ "Yes. Bringing you pleasure also brought – oh! – me pleasure," she said, her sentence interrupted by my realization that her breasts were now tantalizingly close to my face, and I took advantage while she was speaking._

_ I pulled my lips from her breast just long enough to say, "Oh?" This was an interesting concept._

_ "Yes," she gasped, clearly enjoying my attention. I slid my hand down from her back, around between us and down, to touch her. I found her moist and warm once again, aroused and ready. She moaned as my fingers slid against her._

_ "Indeed," I chuckled against her, moving to her other breast, running my tongue across her nipple and biting it gently. She gasped, and I realized that I was very much going to enjoy finding out what she likes in the marriage bed._

_ Her own hand left my shoulder and reached down to touch me again, and I moaned into her breast. I was also very much going to enjoy her discovering what I like._

_ I removed my hand, and she whimpered slightly, disappointed. But then I lifted her by her hips and pulled her toward me, and she understood what I was doing. She guided me into her as I lowered her down over me._

_ She held her breath then. So did I. I think we were both waiting to see if she was too sore to continue. She moved slowly, carefully, sliding upwards, then back down, testing. It was torture for me, blissful torture. I wanted her to move faster, harder, to drive myself deep into her until my vision was blurred and my head was spinning._

_ She repeated the slow movement once more and then sighed._

_ "Arthur," she whispered, pressing her breasts against me seductively. I opened my eyes and found her gazing down at me, watching my face. She brought her fingers up and stroked my brow._

_ "Okay?" I breathed._

_ She leaned down and kissed me. "Excellent," she said against my lips, and I claimed them greedily, enjoying their lushness against mine as they parted for me, her tongue stroking mine. I held her hips and helped her move, guiding her as best I could until I could take it no more and tumbled us from the chair, carefully sinking to the floor, positioning her beneath me once again._

_ I thrust into her faster, harder, my own need driving me. She brought both legs around my hips and crossed her feet behind me, holding on, gasping with pleasure._

_ "Arth…" she sighed, not even able to finish the word. It only spurred me on, and I leaned down to kiss her again to show my appreciation._

_ I once again felt the beginnings of my release, the warmth like sweet fire spreading from my manhood and through the rest of my body. Guinevere's lovely brown body writhed beneath me, and it seemed she was also close. I bent down to take her breast in my mouth again, stroking the taut nipple there with my tongue, bringing her closer. I needed her to get as much enjoyment from this as me. I needed it like I needed air or water or nourishment._

_ She started to cry out, her head thrown back as she arched her back under me, and I let loose my reins and drove deep, deeper still until I was also crying out as we found our climaxes almost at the same time._

xXx

"No! It's not true! Please…" Guinevere calls out in her sleep, bringing Arthur back to the present.

_She must be having a nightmare,_ he thinks, and pulls her to him.

xXx

_It was time. I could hardly believe it. After all that had happened, I was walking up the aisle in the throne room, to be married to Arthur._ Arthur _The man I loved more than life, the man I almost lost due to my own terrible and inexplicable lack of judgment._

_ I had allowed Elyan to escort me up the aisle, but I won't look at him. Nor will I let him kiss me as he hands me off to Arthur. I'm still angry with him._

_ Arthur is gazing at me, the love in his eyes like a touch on my skin, and my body tingles as he takes my hands in his._

_ Geoffrey starts to speak, but I do not hear the words. I see only Arthur; I hear nothing but his words as he repeats the vows. I manage to say the words as instructed of me, but I notice nothing else._

Whore. _A voice behind me, whispered in my ear. I turn my head. No one is there. No one around me seems to notice._

You shouldn't be up here. _I whirl around now, releasing Arthur's hands. He doesn't move. No one moves but me. The world is frozen around me._

_ "Arthur?" I ask. Nothing. I look to the crowd. "Merlin?" Nothing._

You are nothing. Nobody.

_"Stop it! Stop tormenting me!" I scream. I open my eyes and find that I am alone in the throne room. Arthur is gone, Merlin is gone. Everyone is gone._

I am but a part of you.

_"Show yourself," I beg, tears falling from my eyes._

All you need to do is look in a mirror.

_"No… He forgave me… he said he didn't care anymore." I drop to my knees, my head in my hands, sobbing now as I did in the council chambers that terrible day. I look down and see that I am no longer in my wedding gown but instead am clad in the lavender dress I was wearing that day, hair disheveled, hands dirty._

But you cannot forgive yourself. You can never forgive yourself. You are nothing but a common serving wench. A common whore. And that's all you will ever be.

_"No! It's not true! Please…"_

xXx

Guinevere thrashes in her sleep, again crying out, "No!" Arthur holds her tighter, trying to comfort her.

"Guinevere," he whispers, stroking her hair, her face, trying to rouse her. "Love," he kisses her forehead and her cheeks as she struggles.

Finally she wakes and she opens her brown eyes wide, staring at him, puzzled. Tears are streaming down her cheeks. "Arthur?"

"Shh, Love, you were having a nightmare," he says, wiping the tears from her face.

"Oh. Yes. I must have been." She blinks a few times, and her eyebrows furrow as she tries to think.

"Can't remember?"

"No. Did I… say anything?"

"Nothing that would be of any help, I'm afraid." He strokes her back as she cuddles to him, her head on his shoulder. "You said, 'No, it's not true, please,' and then 'no' again."

"Hmm. You're right. Not very helpful," she says, but she has a sneaking suspicion now. It is one that she dare not even admit to herself, much less Arthur.

"Nothing can harm you, my love, as long as I am here. Know that much," he whispered to her, holding her close.

_Can you save me from my own mind?_ Gwen thinks, burrowing her head into his chest. "Just hold me, Arthur."

"My pleasure."

She calms down and is so still that Arthur wonders if she'd dropped off to sleep.

"Guinevere?" he whispers.

"Hmm?"

"Do you often get nightmares?"

"Occasionally. Why?"

"Just wondering if Gaius might be able to make something to help you."

"I'll think about it. If it continues, I will talk to him, I promise."

"Good. I hate the thought of you not sleeping well."

"I didn't wake you, did I?" She lifts her head.

"No, I was still awake," he says, gently guiding her head back down to his chest.

"You were?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Something troubling you?"

"No. I was just thinking."

"Oh?"

"Yes. About our wedding night."

Guinevere giggles against his chest then, and he leans down and kisses the top of her head.


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks later.

Arthur enters the royal bedchamber, sighing heavily as he closes the door.

"Trouble?" Gwen asks. She is sitting at Arthur's desk, reading some parchments. He stops to look at her, swathed in the morning sunlight like an angel. The sight of her makes him feel a little better, but his heart is still heavy with the news he heard from the overnight patrol.

"Odin's men are encroaching on our borders again," Arthur tells her, dropping his gloves on the table before walking towards her.

"Sit," he tells her as she begins to stand.

"What are you going to do?" she asks.

"I don't know. I don't want to fight with him. I'm tired of this cat-and-mouse he keeps dragging me into," he leans on the edge of the desk, facing her.

"I know," she sighs. "How many more times is he going to try to kill you?"

He shrugs, "Until he succeeds, I imagine."

"Arthur!" Guinevere does not like this answer.

"Well, it's the truth."

"Will he not see reason? Perhaps you can arrange a meeting, try and make amends with him. Find neutral territory."

"I'm not sure he would agree to such a meeting."

"You never know until you try, my love," she says, taking his hand.

He sighs. "I need to think," he says, kneeling down beside her.

xXx

"Who's there?" Arthur's voice comes from the other side of the door.

"Merlin, Sire. May I enter?"

"Is it important?"

"Yes, Sire."

A pause. "No."

He hears a muffled "Ow!" followed by Guinevere's voice. "Yes, Merlin, please come in."

Merlin opens the door slowly. He knew that Arthur and Gwen were alone in here, and has really learned to be better about knocking before entering.

"Arthur?" he says, looking around. He doesn't see the king.

"What is it, Merlin?"

He follows the voice. He sees Gwen sitting in the chair behind Arthur's desk in the alcove by the window, but he doesn't see Arthur. She is looking down, her hands in her lap.

Merlin walks forward, puzzled, and Gwen looks up and smiles at him. As he gets closer, he sees Arthur seated on the floor, his head in the queen's lap. She is stroking his hair, and his eyes are closed.

"Arthur?" he says again.

"Out with it, Merlin. As you can see, I am very busy."

"Clearly."

Arthur opens his eyes and glares at him. "What is it?"

Gwen pulls his hair again. "Be nice."

Merlin is holding something in his hands, wrapped in a piece of linen. It is small, fitting onto one palm easily.

"Um, this was found. In the dungeons. I thought you needed to see it." He opens the linen.

With a heavy sigh, Arthur stands. "What now?" He looks. "A bracelet. So?"

"A… bracelet?" Gwen says, standing, her voice shaking. "Where was it found? Specifically."

Merlin looks at her. "I think you know where, my lady." His face is tight, careful.

Gwen leans forward, peering at it. She puts her hands over her mouth and slumps back down into the chair.

"Guinevere! What… what is it?" Arthur exclaims, rushing to her side.

"That… bracelet. _He_ gave it to me. Merlin, why would you bring that here?" Tears slip down her cheeks, and Arthur is looking daggers at his servant.

He takes a breath. _Careful words, Merlin._ "Gaius and I have reason to believe that this bracelet had been enchanted."

"_WHAT?_" Arthur roars. "Merlin, you had better explain yourself."

"Arthur, look at it. Do the markings on this look… _ordinary_ to you?"

He reaches for it. "Don't touch it!" Merlin cautions, "I—we don't know the extent of its powers."

Arthur lifts it by the handkerchief in which is it wrapped, and looks closely at it. "He gave this to you," he says quietly. "When?" They each have their own reasons for refusing to speak Lancelot's name.

"Be—before. Before I—we… but after he, um," she sniffs, still crying, biting her lip, trying to organize her thoughts. With a deep breath, she continues. "The second day of the tournament. He… he came to my house that morning. I was shocked that he would be so bold. He said it was a wedding gift, that it would bring me luck. It brought nothing but pain." Her face falls into her hands and she falls to sobbing again, the memories too painful.

"Gwen," Merlin says gently, walking around to crouch beside her. "How did you feel… about _him_… before he gave you the bracelet."

She looks up, eyes wide. "Puzzled. But only because we all thought he was dead, honest. And the guilt I had felt about essentially sending him to his death surfaced some. Relief, a little, that he was indeed alive. But mostly puzzled."

Arthur is still pondering the bracelet, listening but saying nothing. It worries Gwen. It worries Merlin.

"And how did you feel… after?"

"Like… like I was no longer in control of my impulses. Impulses that I should have been horrified to be having." Her voice is a whisper. "Something kept pulling me to him." She pauses, and sniffles. "I never really loved him, you know. Even way back. I thought I did, but I didn't." She looks at Arthur, and he looks down at her at these words. "I thought I did, before I knew what it was to truly love someone," she says softly, staring directly into Arthur's eyes.

"Arthur?" Merlin prompts.

"Morgana?" he asks Merlin.

"Who else would be so devious, so cruel?"

"And what of… _him?_"

_Delicate._ "Well, we've been doing some research," Merlin starts to spin a half-truth. "We _think_ he may have been a shade. A… a walking ghost, so to speak. He was an empty shell, under her control. He was her puppet and she was pulling the strings, making him do her bidding. With Agravaine's help, of course."

Merlin takes Gwen's hand, concerned that Arthur isn't saying anything to her, and he feels _someone_ should be comforting her.

"Can you prove this bracelet is enchanted?" Arthur asks quietly.

When Merlin hesitates, Arthur jumps. "Please tell me that you can prove it, Merlin! I'm begging you!"

Merlin looks at Arthur. The king's eyes are glassy, and Merlin realizes that Arthur is trembling, very slightly. _He's just barely holding it together._

"We can prove that the bracelet is enchanted, if you give Gaius permission. He will have to use magic to prove magic," Merlin says, relying on Arthur's trust in Gaius and his knowledge of Gaius' past to allow him to clear Gwen's conscience and heal Arthur's heart. Both their hearts.

xXx

_"It's definitely enchanted, Gaius," Merlin had said._

_ Two guards had been fighting over the bracelet and injured each other in the process. They were brought to Gaius for treatment, and he had confiscated it, suspicious. As soon as the guards were sent away, he sent for Merlin._

_ They both stare at the silver circle resting on the table. "So Guinevere did not betray Arthur after all," Gaius says sadly. "I feel terrible."_

_ "So do I. But it's nothing compared to how Arthur's going to feel," Merlin says. "We have to tell him. They_ need _to know."_

_ "How? He's going to want proof," Gaius asks._

_ Merlin purses his lips together. "Okay. Here's what you need to do…"_

xXx

The trio race through the corridors of the palace, making their way towards Gaius' chambers, Arthur in the lead. They round a corner and nearly knock Sir Elyan over in their haste.

"Gwen!" Elyan calls out. He has been trying to find her for weeks, but she keeps eluding him.

She keeps walking past as if she does not even see him.

"Gwen!" he tries again, but she keeps walking. "You can't avoid me forever, you know."

She stops, turning on her heel to look back at him. Her face is cold, eyes blazing. "Oh? And what makes you think you have done anything deserving my attention, _Sir_ Elyan?" She marches towards him as she speaks, hands clenched into fists at her sides. She spits his title at him like a curse.

"Gwen, I'm sorry…" he starts.

She slaps him. Hard. Elyan is stunned, but not as stunned as Arthur and Merlin, observing from a short distance away.

"Guinevere," Arthur starts forward, but Merlin puts an arm out, blocking him.

"No, Arthur. This is between them," he says quietly. Arthur stops and nods mutely, watching through wide blue eyes. _I have never seen her like this._

"You're _sorry?_ You. _You_ of all people. Who stood by you through all your shenanigans, all the trouble you've gotten yourself into over the years? Who has defended you again and again? Who came to your aid when no one else would?" Gwen is standing before her brother, small and fierce, glaring at him.

"Gwen…" Elyan tries.

She cuts him off, shouting now. "Who talked the innkeeper out of gutting you when he found you with his daughter? Who _gave_ you money to pay off your gambling debts; your tavern bills? Who covered for you time and time again when Father was looking for you and you were nowhere to be found?"

"You did," he says, quiet as a mouse.

Just then Leon and Gwaine round the corner, drawn by the noise. The see their queen staring down her brother, fire in her eyes, and they quickly and wisely do an about-face and retreat the way they came.

"Correct," she says. Elyan seems to be shrinking under her assault. She continues, her voice level and hard as stone. "And who was it that did _not_ come to my aid when I was at my lowest? When I had _no one?_ When I really could have used a friendly face? When the _only_ family I have left could have been the only person that could stand by me and support me? Who was it that stood there and looked at me with disdain on his face? No. _Disgust._"

"I did," he whispers.

"You didn't need to approve of what I did. Hell, _I_ don't even approve of what I did. But your actions that day only showed me that you care more about your position as a Knight of Camelot than you do about your own sister." She is no longer shouting, but her low, measured tone is no less frightening. "I don't know why I'm surprised, actually. You couldn't even be bothered to show when our father died, why should I expect you to come my aid, your _only sister,_ when I could have been _executed?_"

"Ha. Sister," she continues with a humorless laugh, looking towards the ceiling. Then, looking him square in the eye, she declares, "You no longer have the right to call me 'sister.' At least not until you can find a way to make amends."

Elyan is shocked. _She's disowning me?_

When he says nothing, she spins around to walk away again, tears forming in her eyes.

"Gwen, wait!" he finally finds his voice. She stops, but does not turn.

"What?"

"How do I do that? Make amends."

She looks over her shoulder at him and says, "That is not my concern. You need to figure that out for yourself, Sir Elyan. I am no longer in the business of helping you."

Elyan stands there, dumbfounded, as he watches his sister walk away from him and into Arthur's arms. Merlin spares him a glance, but no help. Arthur does not look at him, he only holds his wife to him, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. She sighs, gently pulls away from him and quickly marches down the corridor, leading the way to Gaius' room, away from Elyan.

xXx

They reach the door, and Merlin opens it, allowing Gwen to enter first. Arthur pauses near his servant. "Merlin," he quietly says, slowly and deliberately, his eyes locked on his wife's back. "Remind me to never make Guinevere angry."

Merlin follows Arthur's gaze and says, "I'll remind you if you remind me."

xXx

_"That's it?" Gaius says. "Just one word?"_

_ "That's it," Merlin nods. "But Gaius. Make it look good. Arthur does know about your past, but he doesn't know how_ recently _you've used magic. So…"_

_ "Ah, add some theatrics, I see. So he thinks I'm rusty."_

_ "Yes. And find a book. Go down the archives if you have to, but find a book that looks vaguely magical and very old. Surely there must be some books of magic in that archive yet, hidden away, collecting dust."_

_ "Why don't I just use yours?"_

_ "No!" Merlin exclaims, before he looks up at Gaius and sees the old man's eyes twinkling. He is teasing him._

_ "Go find Arthur and Gwen," Gaius ushers him out the door and heads to the archives._


	6. Chapter 6

"Gaius, Merlin tells me this bracelet may hold some answers?" Arthur asks, handing the linen-wrapped jewelry to the physician.

"Yes, Sire, but unfortunately the only way to know for certain is to break the law ourselves," he frowns. "Unless you're just willing to take our word for it," he indicates himself and Merlin.

Arthur contemplates this, conflicted. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Guinevere. She looks unsteady on her feet, so he pulls a bench over for her, offering his hand to assist her as she sits. She smiles at him, but it is a nervous smile beneath worried eyes.

"Arthur?" Merlin asks. Arthur is staring at the flame of a candle, watching it flicker and dance.

"Am I being selfish?" he finally asks, quietly. "Disregarding the law for my own gratification?" He turns, the conflict within him clear on his face. "I want nothing more than to _know_ that Guinevere was not responsible for her actions that night. My entire heart, my very _soul_ is screaming out for me to give consent to this, Gaius. But even though I am king, that doesn't make me above the law."

"Arthur," Merlin steps toward him. "It is very likely that a grave injustice has been done. We need to right this wrong. Who it _is_ that was wronged is irrelevant."

"What?" Arthur asks, thinking that Merlin may be insulting his wife.

"What I mean is whether this wrong was done to Guinevere, Gwaine, or Jack the eight-fingered butcher in the lower town, I know you would demand that it be righted. It's not a matter of the people involved; it's a matter of injustice. And if that means allowing a rusty old ex-sorcerer to do a _tiny_ bit of magic – for good – to counteract a large bit of magic – done for evil – then so be it."

"No one outside this room need know, Sire," Gaius adds carefully.

Arthur ponders their words. Finally, he sighs. "I trust no one more than I trust the three of you. You know this. You know _me._" He looks down at Guinevere, and adds, "Better than I know myself, sometimes." He closes his eyes. "Do it."

Gwen reaches out and takes Arthur's hand. Merlin crosses over to Gaius, appearing to assist him.

"Remember what to do?" he whispers, unfolding a completely unnecessary piece of red velvet on the table.

"Yes. I've been practicing," Gaius gingerly places the bracelet in the center of the velvet square, taking care not to touch the silver. He winks at Merlin, then turns and tosses the linen handkerchief that had been holding the bracelet into the fire.

Merlin tries not to laugh as he clears the table of everything except for one unnecessary candle. A black one. He lights it and places it behind the velvet.

"Ready?" he asks Gaius.

"Here we go."

Gaius goes to a podium and retrieves the book he got from the archives.

"Where did you get that book?" Arthur asks.

"The archive, Sire. There are still a few _questionable_ books to be found down there. Rest assured that I'll be returning it exactly where I found it, and then promptly forgetting where that was."

"Indeed."

Gaius carefully opens the book to a page he has marked (at random), peers at it, and nods. He stands over the table, places his palms flat on the wooden surface on either side of the velvet square, and closes his eyes.

Gwen pulls Arthur's hand to her chest, gripping it hard between both of hers. Arthur can feel her heart beating as though it is ready to jump through her ribcage. His is behaving much the same.

Merlin watches them, confident that this will work. He's been jumping out of his skin since he made the discovery. _My friends can finally have peace._

After what seems an eternity, Gaius opens his eyes and stares at the bracelet. He mutters a single word: "Líesing." _Release._

His eyes flash with the word, and a moment later, the bracelet takes on a strange, bluish light. The light lifts up from the bracelet in the shape of an orb the size of an apple, then disintegrates into a purplish smoke before it disappears completely.

"What was that?" Arthur whispers.

Gaius takes a deep breath, drooping as if the process has drained him, and Merlin brings him a chair. "The enchantment leaving the bracelet," he says after he sits.

"So…?" Arthur prompts.

"Merlin, the book?" Gaius asks. Merlin obliges.

Gaius scans the page, looking for something that he knows is not there. He pretends to find it, tapping his crooked finger on the page, and looks up at Arthur. "The purple color of the smoke indicates that it was indeed a love charm, my lord."

"So this means…" Gwen whispers.

"This means we all owe you quite a large apology, my dear," Gaius tells her, smiling kindly.

Her hands fly to her face, emotions clamoring for attention within her. _Shock. Relief. Confusion. Relief. Anger. Relief._ Her heart is racing, her head is swimming, and she vaguely feels the tears slip down her cheeks. _I didn't do it. It wasn't me._

Arthur is struggling with his own torrent of emotions. _Guilt. Relief. Rage. Relief. Regret. Relief._ He collapses to his knees at Guinevere's feet, burying his face in her lap, his arms around her waist. His sudden action takes her quite by surprise and she jumps slightly before resting her hand on his head.

"Guinevere…" he says into her lap, his voice hovering somewhere between a plea and a prayer. "Can you ever forgive me?" He looks up at her, tears in his searching eyes.

"Arthur, there is nothing to forgive," she says, wiping a tear from his cheek while hers still course down her own. "You didn't know. I didn't know."

"But I should have known something wasn't right. I _should_ have known that you would never, _could_ never…"

"Arthur, there was no way you could have. I couldn't believe it myself, and yet there I was. Caught. And _I_ didn't even suspect. None of us did."

"You're not angry?" he asks.

"Oh, I'm angry. _Furious,_ in fact." Her eyes narrow, then soften again. "But not with you," she says, stroking his cheek.

"But I could have… I could have had you… killed," he can barely say the word.

"But you didn't."

"But…"

She puts her fingers to his lips, stilling them. "I thought you said you didn't care about what happened."

"That was before I knew that someone _else_ was responsible. It is one thing to forgive a mistake made by someone you love; it is quite another to turn a blind eye to a malicious act committed by a person who clearly has let her quest for power cloud any good judgment she ever had." His sadness and guilt are turning to anger now. He rises from the floor and sits beside his queen on the bench, holding her hands in his. "If I _ever_ see that _wretched_ sister of mine again…"

"Not if I get to her first," Gwen interrupts, her own voice chilling. Arthur looks at her, now only mildly surprised after witnessing her confrontation with her brother in the hallway.

"Gaius," he turns to ask the man a question and finds that both he and Merlin have disappeared.

"They must have wanted to give us some privacy," Gwen says, squeezing his hand.

"Thoughtful," he says, leaning towards her, snaking his hand around her waist, pulling her to him.

Arthur leans in to kiss her, but hesitates. His eyes look pained for a moment, and instead he buries his face in her neck, practically crushing her in his embrace.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers against her neck. "I'm sorry that she did this to you. To us. I'm sorry that no one questioned the logic of your actions. I'm sorry that I sent you off alone, with no one to protect you. Without me to protect you. I'm sorry that Isolde had to die for me to realize that I was a fool to let you go, that I couldn't live without you. If I could go back…" he trails off.

"Oh, Arthur, I know. I'm sorry, too. For everything," she says, her hand caressing his cheek, his hair. "There's nothing I want more than to find Morgana and help you flay her six ways from Sunday. But that will have to wait." She kisses his temple. "Arthur," she says, gently lifting his head, her hand under his chin the way he has done so many times to her. "You were able to move past this before we knew I was enchanted. You forgave me, thinking that I had betrayed you. I never blamed you for your actions, Arthur. You acted based on the information you had, and you were merciful. As you said, you could have had me killed."

Arthur looks into her eyes, amazed at his wife's wisdom and unbelievably gentle heart. He sighs and leans his forehead against her. "Don't remind me," he says, squeezing his eyes shut, willing images of Gwen being executed out of his brain. "And you? Can you forgive yourself now?" he asks quietly, remembering her words the day he proposed the second time.

"I thought I had done when you forgave me. But until today, until I saw that puff of smoke, I realized that I had not, in fact, forgiven myself. I feel as though a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders."

He smiles warmly at her, his eyes full of love and wonder. Finally he kisses her, lovingly and passionately, holding her close.

Gwen pulls away gently, resting her forehead against Arthur's. A few tears slip from her eyes again, and he wipes them away with his thumbs before kissing the corner of one eye.

"Merlin?" he calls. "You can stop hiding now."

"Elyan's outside the door, Arthur. You may as well let him come in, too," Gwen says.

"You're sure?"

She nods. "He _heard everything,_ I'm sure," she shouts key words, angling her head towards the door. "So he'd better _come in so he knows to keep his fool mouth closed about this._"

The door opens slowly, and a sheepish-looking Elyan sidles in just as Merlin and Gaius emerge from Merlin's room.

"Elyan," Arthur says.

"Sire?" Elyan asks. He's not sure what to say or where to look.

"How much did you hear?"

"Um…"

Gwen gives him a _look._

"Everything. I followed you here immediately. Sorry, Sire."

Arthur stands and walks over to him. "Not. A. Word. You must not breathe a word to anyone about what happened here."

"But Sire, how are we to clear Gwen's name otherwise?" Elyan asks. Gwen sighs at his transparent attempt to regain her good graces.

"We got a confession," Merlin suggests.

Arthur turns. "What's that?"

"A confession."

"From whom?"

"One of Agravaine's…" he waves his hand, searching for the right word, "…minions. He came forward last night under cover of darkness, unable to deal with the guilt of the things he'd done and had knowledge of. Found religion, or something."

"Go on," Arthur prompts, angling his head.

"Yes. So this morning you heard what he had to say, he told you of the bracelet, which Gaius had conveniently just recovered from some guards," Merlin pauses, knowing he had to keep that part true, "and there we are. Problem solved."

"And what of this 'minion' that suddenly found a conscience?"

The room is silent. Everyone is thinking the same thing, but no one wants to say it; it is too close to the fate Gwen once dealt with.

"You, in your infinite mercy, rewarded him for his candor by not having him executed for his wrongdoing. Then you exiled him," Guinevere is finally the one that speaks.

Arthur nods slowly. He is unhappy at the web of lies, but the truth is far more fragile at this time. He looks around at his companions. "All right then. Are we all understood?"

They all nod. Elyan nods emphatically, glancing at his sister.

"So what do we do with this now?" Arthur leans over the table, looking down at the bracelet.

"Destroy it," Gwen says coldly.

"It is perfectly harmless now," Gaius says, picking it up and looking at it. He holds back a gasp and looks sideways at Merlin.

The bracelet is now completely smooth; all the markings have been erased.

Merlin bites back a smirk.

"I don't care. I want it gone."

"I'll do it," Elyan says, reaching for it.

"How will you do this?" Gaius asks, handing it over.

"I was a blacksmith, Gaius. I think I can manage a tiny hunk of silver."


	7. Chapter 7

"Merlin," Gaius fixes him in his squinty stare, eyebrow cocked.

"Gaius," Merlin replies casually.

"That was a sneaky trick, changing the bracelet's appearance like that," he scolds.

"What? I thought it was a nice touch," he says, standing. It is nearing lunch and he needs to bring Arthur and Gwen their meal, which they've requested to have in the royal chambers. They'd been sequestered in there since Elyan left with the bracelet.

"Well, what if they'd seen you?" Gaius asks, raising his voice slightly.

"They weren't looking at me at all, Gaius. You know I wouldn't have done it if there was a chance of discovery. I'm not completely stupid."

He sighs. "I know you're not, Merlin." He places a hand on the young man's shoulder. "I guess I just wished you'd told me. I just about dropped my teeth when I saw what you'd done to it!" The old man softens, allowing himself a chuckle finally.

"It was a last-minute decision, sorry," Merlin says just before he whisks himself out of the room.

xXx

Merlin knocks on the door again.

"Come," Arthur's voice bids him enter. He opens the door, lifts the tray and enters the room.

Arthur and Gwen are sitting close together, facing each other, over on the bed, talking quietly, holding hands. Merlin clears his throat.

"Lunch, your majesties."

"Thank you, Merlin," Gwen calls to him, and stands. Arthur follows.

They both look exceptionally tired, especially Arthur. He looks a bit pale, overwrought. _He is still struggling with his guilt,_ Merlin observes.

"You all right, Arthur?" he ventures.

"No, Merlin, I'm not. Obviously," he snaps at his friend. Gwen puts her hand on his shoulder, stilling him.

"Sorry, Merlin. I'm just…"

"I know, Arthur, we all feel terrible," he says, giving Guinevere a small smile, which she returns.

"Thank you, Merlin," she tells him. She takes Arthur's hand and leads him to the table.

"Not hungry," he pouts.

"You need to eat," she tells him, pushing him into his chair before she sits. Merlin delivers their plates; Gwen's first, then Arthur's.

"That will be all, Merlin, thank you," Arthur says quietly. Merlin smiles and turns towards the exit.

"Merlin," Arthur seems to have changed his mind.

"My lord?"

"Guinevere and I are to remain undisturbed for the rest of the day. Nothing short of Morgana approaching the gates of the kingdom interests me right now. Understood?"

"Um, yes, but…"

"_What?_"

"What if there are slightly less important but still important matters that need dealing with?"

"Then deal with them."

Now it is Merlin's turn. "_What?_"

"If something comes up, you and Sir Leon can sort it out, I'm sure," he says, sighing. Gwen looks at him, slightly surprised.

"But…"

"Merlin, contrary to what you may think, and it does pain me to say this, I do trust you. Now go."

"Thank you, Sire. Oh, um, dinner?"

"You may bring dinner. Just knock and leave it outside the door," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "Oh, and draft up a letter to Queen Annis asking if we might impose upon her hospitality to stage a meeting between myself and Odin. Please."

"Going to try and make peace with him?" Merlin asks.

Arthur glances at Gwen and nods.

"I'll take care of it, Sire."

"Thank you, Merlin."

Merlin leaves, and Guinevere stands, going to lock the door behind him. Arthur nods approvingly at her and pokes at his lunch.

"Arthur," she starts, "you know, you really should—"

"Promote Merlin to Court Counsel and let him stop being my servant, I know," he finishes his wife's sentence for her.

Gwen is surprised. She hadn't realized that the thought had occurred to him. _I was expecting to have to convince him of this,_ she thinks. "So you _have_ been paying attention," she says, smiling.

"Of course. He's not as terrible a servant as I always say, but we both know that his real skill lies elsewhere," he says, stabbing a piece of pork as if it has insulted him and holding it aloft.

"Maybe when all this bracelet business settles down you can start putting things in motion," she suggests, looking sideways at him. He is still holding his fork in midair. "But in the meantime you can start putting some food in motion towards your mouth."

He obligingly puts the meat into his mouth, and Guinevere relaxes a little and starts to eat.

xXx

_Arthur actually trusts me,_ Merlin thinks, walking down the corridor, marveling at the fact that he suddenly kind of has the day off. _But this is delicate. I mean, he should trust me. He needs to trust me. But my magic… What will happen when he finds out? If he finds out? He's had so many people betray his trust._ He sighs. _At least we can strike Gwen's name off that list now._

He turns to go to the kitchens to find a little lunch for himself. _Hopefully it'll be a quiet day,_ he thinks, not sure if he's ready to deal with any 'somethings' that might come up.

xXx

Elyan stares at the circle of silver in his hand as he trudges through the streets of the lower town. His feet are heavy and he feels about two inches high. _Everything Gwen said about me was completely true. And now we find out that it wasn't even her fault._ He unconsciously raises his hand to his left cheek, still remembering the sting of her slap. _She always was a strong little thing._

He knocks on the blacksmith's door. "Edgar," he calls.

A few moments later the door is opened by a tall, burly man covered in soot and sweat. "Elyan, good to see you, my friend," he says, clasping his hand warmly. "Whoops, I should say 'Sir Elyan,' shouldn't I?" he smiles.

"Nah, it's all right. I'm here to ask a favor anyway, so you may call me what you like. May I come in?"

"Yes, of course, what can I help you with?"

"I need to borrow your forge for a minute, actually."

"Really? Whatever for? Surely I can take care of whatever it is you need…"

"No," he interrupts. "This is something I need to do myself," he says, opening his hand to reveal the bracelet.

Edgar furrows his brow, confused. "What do you need to do with that?"

"I have to destroy it."

"But that's… that's _silver._"

"Yes, I know. It was enchanted by the Lady Morgana, and is responsible for my sister's betrayal of the King."

"No!" Edgar is shocked. The news of Guinevere's betrayal had spread through the lower town like wildfire. Some felt it was a terrible shame, happy that the king had chosen one of the people as his queen. Some felt vindicated, certain that Gwen had somehow tricked the king into thinking he loved her.

Elyan was conflicted about revealing the truth behind the bracelet, but he also knew that he could also spread the word about his sister's innocence this way. The blacksmith's wife was a notorious gossip.

"Yes, the queen is actually completely innocent of any past wrongdoing," Elyan says, loud enough for Edgar's wife to hear on the other side of the door leading to their living quarters. He knows she is listening.

"Truly? That is wonderful news, Elyan!" Edgar exclaims, having been one of her supporters, her being a blacksmith's daughter and all. "So she asked you to destroy it."

Elyan nods. "I just need to borrow your fire and a crucible and I'll be out of your hair."

"Fair enough," the blacksmith says. "Shame, though, having to destroy perfectly good silver like that," he adds, shaking his head.

"Guinevere's good name is worth the price, don't you think?"

"Yes. Yes, it is indeed."

Elyan places the bracelet over the fire, watching it glow hot and red before it finally caves into itself, pooling at the bottom of the crucible. He pulls it from the fire and pours it out into a pit of sand, where it cools in an irregular shape, an ugly flat blob. He stares at it, pulling it out and shaking it off with some tongs before plunging it into the water, which hisses and spits when the hot metal touches it.

He drops it onto the anvil. _Now what do I do with it?_ He stares at it. It is irregular and bumpy, blackened in some places. He knows it could be recast into something beautiful, and he considers taking it to a silversmith to arrange that something be made for Guinevere from it. _She wouldn't accept it, knowing where it came from._ He flips it over with his fingers. It is now cool enough to touch.

_A reminder._ He reaches for a punch tool hanging nearby and puts one end in the fire to heat it.

xXx

"Arthur, you need to stop torturing yourself," Gwen tells him. She's done eating, only having eaten half her plate, as usual. Arthur has eaten even less of his meal, and has fallen to moving his food around on his plate like a fussy child.

"I know. I know. I know. It's just that… when I think about what you must have put up with out there, all alone… and knowing that I caused it… _I_ was the one who sent you away…" He throws his fork down on the table.

"Love, you did what you had to do. You did more than that. You could have had me executed."

"Don't remind me!" he interrupts, squeezing his eyes shut.

Gwen stands and walks the two steps to Arthur. She caresses his temple with her fingertips and he opens his eyes.

She walks around behind him and pulls his chair out from the table a bit. Then she climbs into his lap.

"I'm going to say this one more time, Arthur Pendragon, and I want it to stick: You _didn't_ have me executed. You acted justly based on the facts you had at that time. More than justly. You cannot dwell on what might have happened," she says, looking him square in the eyes. "We cannot change the past. What's done is done, and it's over with now. I harbor no ill will towards you for it, only Morgana." She bends down and kisses him then, softly and quickly. "Well, and Elyan, too," she adds with a smirk.

"If nothing else we learned that we truly are meant to be together," she tells him, resting her forehead against his.

"I learned that I am nothing but a shell of a man without you," he whispers, finally able to speak about the empty hole in his soul during the weeks of her exile. "I couldn't eat, could barely sleep. Ask Merlin how many nights I slept with my head on the table because I couldn't bear to lay in that bed, knowing you should have been there. I… must have been horrible to Merlin, actually. I was probably horrible to everyone." His voice is a pained whisper. He tucks his head into her neck, holding her tight.

"I was lost," she softly replies. "Emotionally lost, Arthur. You don't know what it's like to hate yourself that way. I didn't think I could go on without you, but I had to. I had no choice but to go on, but I was so empty. I might as well have been de—"

"Don't you dare say it, Guinevere," Arthur's voice comes up from her neck, its warning tone interrupting her last word.

She sighs, kissing the top of his head. "I think that my nightmares will end now," she admits.

He lifts his head and looks at her. "Is that what they were about?"

"I think so. I think my guilt was still lingering, torturing me in my dreams. I can't be sure, because I really don't remember much. Images, flashes."

"Oh, Love," he says sympathetically, stroking her cheek. He kisses her again, lingering more this time. "I just need you so much, Guinevere," he tells her. "I need your wisdom, your kindness. Your strength. I _cannot_ be king without you as my queen."

"All that I have is yours, my king, my love," she says into his ear, and he squeezes her so tight it takes her breath away. She gasps, and he loosens his grip a little.

"Sorry."

"It's all right, Arthur, squeeze me all you want, I'm here for you and you alone."

"That is correct."

"I do need to get up, though, the arm of the chair is digging into my back."

He helps her up, and contemplates the remains of his lunch. "Still not hungry," he says, pushing the plate away. Gwen picks up the plates and puts them back on the tray Merlin brought in and carries it to the door. She opens the door and sets the tray outside before closing it and locking it once again.

"Guinevere," Arthur says, standing and crossing to her.

She holds her arms out to him, and he pulls her into his embrace, surrounding her small body with his, one arm around her waist, the other holding her head gently. Gwen's hands cling to his back, holding him around his ribs, her head on his chest. They stand holding each other for what seems like an hour, basking in each other's presence, soaking one another in.

Arthur loosens his grip on her just slightly, and she lifts her face to his, receiving his kiss, sweet and warm, tasting slightly of the meat and wine they had just had. Gradually the kiss deepens, and Arthur's tongue snakes forward to tease her lips apart so that he can enter, delving into her waiting mouth to mate with her tongue.

Her hands come up to his shoulders, and he backs her up against the door, pressing her against the wooden surface, his hands at her waist now, gripping the material of her gown in his fists.

"Arthur…" she gasps, breaking away for air, breathing heavily. He stares down at her, his black eyes penetrating her soul as they stare; his love, his need laid bare for her to see.

She leans in and kisses his neck at the base, where it meets his chest, tucking her chin in the vee at the collar of his white shirt. He groans low, and while Gwen doesn't hear it, she feels it as a vibration under her lips at his throat.

"I need you, Guinevere," Arthur breathes into her ear. "I need to love you, to worship you, to… exorcise these awful things out of my head," he mutters, punctuating his speech with small wet kisses on her neck.

"I know, Arthur," she gasps, her hand in his hair.

xXx

"Merlin, thank God, there you are," a young page comes rushing into the kitchen, where Merlin has found a quiet corner and a chicken leg to call his own.

"What?" he asks, his mouth full.

"Lord Roderick of Clarence is approaching the castle," he breathes.

"He wasn't expected until next week," Merlin says, taking one last bite of his chicken before tossing the bone in the fire, earning him a dirty look from the cook. "All right, no rest for the weary, I guess. Come on."

"Shouldn't you fetch the king?" the page asks.

"The king doesn't wish to be disturbed today," Merlin says tersely as he strides towards the courtyard. "But find Sir Leon for me, please. The knights should be coming in from the training fields for lunch about now."

"On my way," the boy says and runs off.


	8. Chapter 8

Arthur lifts Guinevere in his arms, carrying her over to the bed, his eyes locked on hers the entire time. He sets her down gently on the mattress, kissing her softly as he leans over her. He removes his boots and sits at her feet, gently removing her shoes and dropping them behind him, over his shoulder. He lifts one foot in his hand and kisses her toes, making her giggle softly. This small noise pulls a slight smile at the corners of his lips, and he kisses her arch, then the inside of her ankle before lowering her foot back down to the bed.

He crawls forward, over her, occasionally planting kisses on her still-clothed body as he goes. He drops his head, kisses the swell of her breasts where they rise above the bodice of her gown, and trails more kisses up to her neck. Gwen arches her head back, sighing his name as his tongue teases the sensitive skin beneath her ear.

She reaches her hands up and plunges them into Arthur's hair, running her fingertips along his scalp, holding his head gently, still letting him take the lead. He pulls the shoulder of her gown down, kissing the skin he exposes there.

Arthur moves off of her, and Gwen scowls at the cold air that she feels in his absence. He lifts her shoulders so she is sitting and he slides in behind her to undo the laces on her dress.

She moves her hair out of his way while he diligently pulls the laces free of each eyelet, and as the dress opens in back, he feathers kisses on each inch of skin as it comes in to view. Her skin is soft under his lips, and he closes his eyes and allows the sensation to mix with her scent and fill him up.

The last lace comes free and he slips his hands inside, around her middle and pulls her back against him, where he kisses her neck again. Gwen pulls her arms free of her sleeves and lifts one hand back, cupping his cheek in her hand. He turns his head and kisses the inside of her wrist.

Arthur stands again and pulls his shirt off over his head. Guinevere lays back and watches, admiring him from her place on the bed. She makes no moves to remove her dress any further. He smiles when he sees she has waited for him, and he returns to her, sliding his hands down her torso to where he has left the gown, and he slides it down over her hips and legs, removing it to the floor.

_I never get tired of seeing her in her shift,_ he finds himself thinking, realizing that the tantalizing nature of _almost_ being able to see her, the anticipation of it, is nearly as good as having her completely naked before him. Nearly.

"Arthur?" Gwen asks softly, noting his pause.

"Hmm?" he says, focusing on her face again. "Just enjoying the view."

With that he drops onto the bed again, scooting up next to her to kiss her lips, her neck, her shoulder. He nudges the thin strap of her shift down over the brown creamy skin on her shoulder with his teeth, skimming his lips across the surface as he does so. His other hand makes quick but not as enticing work of the other strap, and with Gwen's help he shimmies the thin garment down over her body, his hands never losing contact with her skin.

Guinevere sighs under his ministrations, letting him have complete control. _It's what he needs right now. To feel in control of something again._

She expects him to once again crawl back up over her, but he stays by her legs, running his hands up along the slender limbs, his large warm hands gentle and arousing.

He begins his ascent again, starting low, kissing her knee before settling himself between her legs, kissing upward, his intent clear in his mind.

Guinevere, on the other hand, is caught unawares as he kisses up her inner thigh. Her eyes are closed, her hands thrown up on either side of her head, enjoying his kisses, expecting him to work his way up her stomach, to her breasts…

"Oh!" she exclaims as she feels an open-mouthed kiss between her legs, Arthur's tongue sliding within her. She nearly shoots from the bed and he presses a forearm down on her stomach, holding her still.

"Stay put, you," he surfaces just long enough to mutter these three words to her before returning to her warmth, flicking his tongue across her most sensitive point before sliding it down to plunge into her.

"Oh… oh, God… Arthur…" Guinevere gasps. _This is too much._ Her fingers grasp at the pillow under her head, gripping it tightly, her knuckles white.

Arthur cannot help but smile at the effect he is having on her, and somewhere in the back of his brain he realizes that pleasuring her this way is increasing his own arousal as well. He shifts slightly, adjusting his weight off of his erect member.

He runs his tongue slowly along the length of her folds, tormenting her, causing her to cry out once again. She grabs his hand that is on her stomach and brings it up to her breast, which he happily strokes and squeezes, rubbing her nipple with his thumb, teasing it hard as he once again thrusts his tongue within her, as deep as he can.

"Ohhhh…" a long, drawn-out moan escapes her lips, followed by "Yes…" as she writhes beneath him, squirming as her climax approaches.

Arthur's tongue continues its assault on her senses, aided by his skillful hand at her breast. He returns his tongue to her swollen nub, licking gently again, drawing the sensation out, torturing her.

Gwen starts to whimper, pressing her hips forward into him, trying to get him to go faster, harder.

"More…" she begs, beyond all reason now.

Arthur acquiesces and not only flicks his tongue across her, firm and fast, but slips two fingers of his unoccupied hand into her as well.

"Oh… oh my… oh!" she finally shouts out, her release finding her, sudden and glorious, intense and draining.

Arthur feels her muscles contract around his finger as she shouts and bucks her hips, and he slides his fingers out slowly. The feeling of her inner walls squeezing his fingers intrigues him and he is a bit reluctant to retract them.

Finally he climbs up as she was originally expecting, kissing his way up her stomach, pausing to dip his tongue into her navel, leaving a trail of kisses up between her breasts. He stops, sliding over to lie close beside her, his head on her chest.

He can hear her heart beating under his ear, rapid but starting to slow as her breathing also returns to normal.

"Ah, Guinevere," he sighs, snuggling his head into her. She brings a hand up and strokes his hair.

"Where did _that_ come from?" she finally asks.

"Did you not enjoy it?" he answers her question with a question.

"I think we both know the answer to that question, Arthur."

He snorts a small laugh. "Did you not know about…?"

"Well, certainly, yes. But I guess it just didn't occur to me that you would _want_ to…"

"Of course I wanted to. Have been wanting to since our wedding night," he kisses her neck.

"What took you so long?" she asks.

He bursts out laughing now, shocked and amused at her question. He squeezes her.

"You'd be amazed at the things some of the maids talk about when no one else is around," she muses. "Positively improper, some of them, openly discussing acts of love as if they don't have any meaning."

"My ever-proper Guinevere," he says, kissing her hand. "Well, except in here, where I thoroughly enjoy how improper you get with me."

"Oh!" she laughs, slapping his shoulder playfully. _At least he's feeling better,_ she thinks, delighted to hear him teasing her again.

They are quiet for several minutes, Arthur's hand straying idly over her stomach, fingers dragging around in a series of whispery caresses.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I do hope that you're not with child right now," he says suddenly.

_What?_ Gwen is taken aback by this statement, but hears him out. "Explain," she says.

He lifts his head and looks at her. "What I mean is that the stress of this morning wouldn't be good for you or our baby." He puts his head back down and his hand comes to rest on her stomach again, low, where a baby would be.

Gwen sighs, remembering their disappointment two weeks earlier. "Well, as you recall, my monthly was two weeks ago," she begins.

"I do remember. Very frustrating so soon after our wedding," he chuckles. "And disappointing that my seed hadn't yet taken hold," he adds softly, turning his face into her neck.

She strokes his cheek, touched by his admission. "Patience, my love."

"I know, it was too much to expect that you'd get with child right away."

She sighs and kisses his forehead.

"Sorry. Continue."

"So my womb wouldn't be ready to receive a child until this week at the earliest," she explains, her fingers twining in his hair.

"Really?"

"That's what the midwives say, anyway."

"Hmm. Apparently there's a lot I don't know. About women, anyway."

Gwen laughs at him, and he cannot help but join her.

"It's good to hear you laughing again, Arthur," she says.

xXx

"Lord Roderick, welcome," Merlin says as the visiting lord approaches. He dismounts and fixes the servant in his stare.

"King Arthur has not come to greet me? What is this?" he blusters.

"Well, my lord, we were not expecting you until next week, I'm afraid."

"Nonsense! I clearly specified that I would be traveling through _this_—"

"Lord Roderick, good to see you, my lord," Sir Leon interrupts, striding forward on long legs, his cape billowing behind.

"Ah, Sir Leon, finally a _noble_ here to welcome me," he casts a sneer in Merlin's direction as he hands him a satchel. Roderick's own servant takes another bag and hands the reins of his master's horse to a stablehand.

"But surely, you were to arrive next week, yes?" Leon asks. They make their way toward the palace doors.

"Really? I must have gotten my weeks confused; I do apologize," he says. Merlin rolls his eyes behind him, carrying the man's bag and suppressing the urge to give the rude lord a pig's tail.

"Where is your King?" he asks.

"I do not—" Leon starts.

Merlin catches them up and bails Leon out. "Um, unfortunately the King is indisposed today. He will not be able to receive you until tomorrow, probably late morning, I'm afraid."

Roderick glares at Merlin again. "What do you mean, 'indisposed?' I have come for an audience, and audience I shall have."

"And you shall. Tomorrow morning. My lord," Merlin replies, through gritted teeth.

"Sir Leon, what is the meaning of this?"

"Well, my lord, if Merlin says the king is indisposed, then he is indeed indisposed, I'm afraid."

"You let this… _servant_ speak so?"

Leon stops, having had enough of the lord's attitude. "Lord Roderick. Merlin is King Arthur's personal servant and a trusted member of the king's inner circle. We treat him with respect because our king treats him with respect. He knows the king's schedule and if he says that the king is not to be disturbed, it is because King Arthur has commanded it." He turns and strides up the stairs, taking two at a time, saying over his shoulder, "The knights are just sitting down to lunch. You must be hungry; join us."

Merlin smiles, not realizing that Leon thought so highly of him. He jogs up the stairs behind them.

Leon leads the way to the great hall, where the knights are sitting and servants are just starting to attend them. "Knights, may I present Lord Roderick of Clarence. He has stopped for a visit and will be joining us for lunch as the king is unavailable at the moment," he announces. There are faint rumbled greetings. The knights really don't care who they dine with, as long as they dine.

"Please, take a seat, my lord," Merlin instructs, and Roderick spies an empty chair at the head of the table.

"Not there," Gwaine says, looking in his direction. "That's Leon's chair."

"Sir Gwaine, Lord Roderick may sit where it pleases him," Leon says.

Something in the brash knight's manner unnerves the Lord, and he moves to a different chair. Merlin heaves a sigh, and walks over to him.

"My lord, I will go to the royal chambers and see if I can discern whether or not the king would be open to receiving a visitor," he says, knowing full well that he is only going to retrieve their lunch tray if it is waiting.

"Yes, do that, boy."

Merlin turns to leave and Leon stops him, his hand on his elbow. "What's going on?" he asks quietly, the concern plain on his face.

"Long story, I'll tell you all later."

"Short version?"

Merlin takes pity on the knight, knowing his loyalty to the king and fondness for the queen. "Okay. We found out this morning that Gwen was under an enchantment when she betrayed Arthur with Lancelot."

"What?" he says, a little too loud. A few heads turn. He pulls Merlin further from the table, and repeats, softer, "What?"

"Gwen didn't do anything wrong."

"Oh my God, Arthur must feel awful. This is the Lady Morgana's doing, surely?" Leon looks as though he's seen a ghost.

Merlin nods.

"And Lancelot?" he asks.

"Wasn't him. Not really, anyway. Look, I'll explain it all later, to you and the others," he says, turning to leave.

"Where's Elyan?" Percival asks, looking around.

"Hmm. Don't know," Leon says, joining them, though he suspects his absence might have something to do with the news Merlin just told him. "I'm sure he'll be along shortly," he says noncommittally and sits.

"If he's still alive," Gwaine mutters, a smirk on his face, remembering the scene he and Leon walked in on that morning. Leon shoots him a warning look across the table. Gwaine widens his eyes, the picture of innocence.

xXx

Merlin walks quickly through the corridors to the royal chambers. As he suspected, the lunch tray is sitting outside the door. Merlin frowns at the half-eaten food. He knows Guinevere never finishes, but it is most unlike Arthur to not clean his plate.

As he bends to pick up the tray, muffled sounds drift to his ears from the other side of the door.

"Oh… oh, God… Arthur…"

Feeling the blood rush to his face, he lifts the tray quickly, almost dropping it in his flustered embarrassment. He recovers himself and makes a hasty retreat.

_I don't know why I let it embarrass me so,_ he thinks, cursing the burning sensation in his ears as he walks to the kitchens to return the tray. _We didn't see them for two entire days after they were wed._ He is still hungry, and plucks a roasted carrot from one of the plates and pops it in his mouth. _Arthur is a man of action, after all, and they love each other with a passion that most can only dream about…_ His thoughts drift to his lovely, doomed Freya, at peace at the bottom of the lake. Shaking his head to clear it, he deposits the tray in the kitchen and returns to the hall.

"I'm sorry, my lord, but the king will not be receiving anyone today," he says. _Except Gwen,_ he mentally adds, unable to help himself.

"So what is it that is so important that the king cannot see his visitors?" Lord Roderick asks.

"That is none of your concern, my lord, but suffice it to say that King Arthur and Queen Guinevere are to remain undisturbed for the balance of the day," Merlin says shortly, only thinly veiling the immediate dislike he seems to be feeling towards this visitor.

"Your master allows you to speak so, boy?" the lord snaps, turning towards Merlin, only to find he has disappeared for the moment.

Leon speaks again, ever the peacemaker. "My lord, Merlin is only doing his duty to his king. The king and queen are dealing with an important matter that is, in fact, nothing you need concern yourself with."

"Ah, yes, 'Queen Guinevere,'" the Lord sniffs. "The serving wench-queen." His voice drips with disdain.

At these words, every knight leaps to his feet, and hands fly to the hilts of swords around the table. Gwaine has actually drawn his sword and holds the tip unwaveringly at Lord Roderick's throat.

With a deadly gleam in his eye, he speaks, his voice soft and menacing. "Insult our queen again and they will be the last words you utter on this earth."

"Gwaine," Percival lays his hand on his friend's arm. "I'm certain he meant no offense," he says, looking pointedly at Roderick, whose eyes turn in his direction and track up, up until they reach the giant man's normally gentle face, which has now turned stony. "His foolish words are most certainly spoken from ignorance and short-sightedness."

Percival stares hard at the Lord until he acquiesces. "Yes, um… yes. Surely," he stammers, feeling the icy stares of a room full of knights suddenly on full alert. "I do most humbly apologize. It was most hasty and unfair for me to… pass judgment on your… queen…" he still has trouble disguising his contempt over that word, "before having met her. Forgive me." He quickly reaches for his goblet as Gwaine slowly withdraws his sword.

"I recommend, my lord, that you keep a closer watch on both your tongue and your tone in the king's presence," Leon says calmly from the head of the table. His head turns as Elyan strides into the room.

"And his," Gwaine adds with a smirk, nodding towards Elyan.

"What's this?" Elyan asks, sitting in the empty seat beside Gwaine.

"Oh, nothing," Leon says dismissively. "Lord Roderick, this is Sir Elyan. Queen Guinevere's brother."

"Oh. Ah. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir Knight," the lord says, very carefully. There are some assorted stifled chuckles around the table.

"Where have you been off to, Elyan?" Percival asks.

"Just an errand for the queen," he mutters. Gwaine looks at him, puzzled. He glances at Leon, who raises his eyebrows and shrugs.

"What kind of errand?" the ever-curious Gwaine presses. Merlin appears with a plate for Elyan, and delivers a second helping to Percival.

"Nothing that concerns you, you old gossip," Elyan shoves him in the shoulder, but then mutters, "I will tell you and the lads privately, later." He glances at the visiting lord pointedly.

Gwaine notices something on Elyan. "What have you got here?" he says, grabbing a misshapen hunk of metal hanging on a leather thong around Elyan's neck.

Elyan quickly snatches it away. "Never mind," he snaps. He catches Merlin's eye across the room, where he is refilling goblets. Merlin smiles at him and nods ever so slightly, understanding perfectly what is hanging around the knight's neck.


	9. Chapter 9

"Feeling better?" Guinevere asks. They're still lying in bed, now cuddled under the covers together.

"Almost," he says, and he turns onto his back, pulling her with him, trading places with her so that her head is now resting on his chest.

_I knew he wasn't done with me yet,_ she thinks, smiling and resting her hand on his chest, idly toying with his chest hair beneath her fingers.

His hand strokes her side, trailing down to her rear, where he gives a gentle squeeze before resting it there.

"What's on your mind?" she asks, attempting to draw him out.

"Morgana. I don't understand her. I mean, I understand that she wants power. She wants revenge. She wants this kingdom; inexplicably thinks she deserves this kingdom."

"She _is_ older than you."

"Don't help," he teases.

"But she _is_ illegitimate."

"That's better."

"Go on," she prompts.

"But the part I don't understand is this: What did I ever do to her? And more to the point, what on earth did _you_ ever do to her? You were her trusted maidservant for nearly her entire life. Both your lives. More than that, she considered you a friend. I know she did. You did nothing but take care of her and her needs, look after her, console her when she was plagued by nightmares. You went above and beyond the duties of most any servant."

"Thank you."

"And she does something so… low, so _vile_ to you, besmirching your honor and flawless virtue. Just to get at me." Arthur is getting riled up again, and Guinevere sees his fist clenching, feels the tension in his body.

"Shhh," she soothes, leaning up to kiss his lips and stroke his furrowed brow. "Did I tell you that she and I had a confrontation when she and Helios tried to usurp the throne this last time?"

"No! What happened? She is a skilled fighter, how—"

"Arthur," she interrupts.

"Sorry."

"True, I was no match for her sword fighting skill. Remind me later to ask you about teaching me to fight, by the way."

"Noted. Continue."

"But I did manage to ask her what I had done to make her hate me so. Her reply was curious, at the time."

"What did she say?"

"She said, 'It's not what you did, it's what you're destined to do,' and that she could not let that happen. I was a bit confused by her words. Seeing as how we were…"

"Yes."

"At the time. But I can only assume now that she was referring to my becoming queen instead of her."

"Undoubtedly. But how would she know?"

"Arthur, she has magic. The dreams she was plagued by must have been her powers coming forward. Prophetic dreams, probably."

"So you think she dreamt you would be queen?"

Gwen shrugs. "Probably."

"Still no excuse for her to do what she did."

"Arthur, we don't know if she's even alive. Last I saw her, a wall was collapsing on her."

"But Merlin said that she wasn't there when the dust cleared. So she may yet be slinking around somewhere, gathering allies, making plans…"

"Arthur, stop. You're getting yourself all worked up. If she's alive, we don't know where she is. We can't do anything about her until she makes her presence known."

"Well, I'll be ready for her."

"I know you will, love," she says, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

Realization dawns on Guinevere. "Arthur, each time she tries to drive a wedge between us, it only brings us closer together." She sits up slightly to look at him.

He angles his head, waiting for her to continue.

"She used her magic to make me betray you, but all it did was made us realize that we couldn't be apart from one another."

"True," his eyes soften.

"And she ripped my betrothal ring from my neck, and somehow you found it."

He nods. "That was the moment I _knew_ that I could not marry anyone but you, and if I couldn't have you, I would die a bachelor," he says softly. He doesn't mention Princess Mithian. Guinevere knows all about it already and has made it clear that while she doesn't care, neither does she wish to hear any more about it.

"Good thing we found each other again, then," she says, "Which only happened because _Morgana_ forced you to flee. To Ealdor. Where I was staying with Hunith."

"Huh," Arthur wonders, and Gwen leans up to kiss him again, longer, sliding her body against his as she arches up to reach his lips.

"Mmm," he sighs against her. _I think I need some more therapy._

xXx

"So, explain that again? _That_ Lancelot wasn't the _real_ Lancelot?" Gwaine asks. Merlin has left Lord Roderick in the care of a council member, who is giving him a tour of the palace, and the lord mentioned something about a nap. So Merlin has some time to find Arthur's closest knights and update them.

They are seated on a few benches near the training field, hanging on Merlin's every word.

"Yes and no," Merlin says.

"Well, that clears it up."

"He was a shade. Morgana used magic to bring his body back from the other side. But his mind was hers; he was her puppet. He only knew what she told him."

"How did he get the bracelet to give to Gwen?" Percival asks.

"Agravaine," Leon supplies. Merlin nods.

"Ass," Gwaine curses.

Elyan has been sitting with his head bowed the entire time, his elbows on his knees, tracing patterns in the dirt with the tip of his sword. His necklace dangles, swinging in concert with his movements.

"That's what's left of the bracelet, isn't it?" Percival reaches beside him and lifts the silver lump in his palm.

Elyan nods, still not looking up.

"She really laid into you, didn't she?" Leon asks quietly.

He nods again. "I deserved it. Every word."

"Leon and I heard the yelling this morning on patrol and came to investigate," Gwaine confesses. "When we saw who it was, we wisely decided to make tracks the other way," he chuckles.

"Did you see her slap me?"

"She _slapped_ you?" Leon is aghast. He has known Guinevere his entire life and has never known her to raise her hand in anger to anyone.

"Hard," Elyan looks up. "And she was right to do so."

"So why the necklace?" Gwaine asks.

"It's a reminder. To be a better brother. If she'll have me as her brother again."

"She disowned you?" None of them can believe what they are hearing.

"Until I make amends for abandoning her in her greatest time of need."

"How are you going to do that? Other than your ugly necklace, I mean." Percival asks quietly, putting his large arm around his friend's shoulders.

"I've already put some things in motion, actually," he says and explains how he's set about spreading the word of his sister's innocence via the blacksmith's wife.

xXx

His ear is pressed quietly to the door in a dim hallway, listening intently. The sounds of what can only be lovemaking gradually cease, and it is quiet. The listener catches bits of conversation.

"…enjoy…"

The king's laughter comes through the door, very clear. Then it goes quiet again and he must once again strain to hear.

"…with child…"

"… our baby…"

"…midwives…"

Then soft laughter. _Have they shut themselves in to try and conceive an heir? Or is she already with child?_

It is quiet, but the listener is undeterred. His patience is what gained him this job. He waits.

More snatches of conversation. The tone is different this time. The listener closes his eyes, concentrating.

"…Morgana…"

"…illegitimate…"

Arthur's voice rises. Good.

"…What did I ever do to her? And more to the point, what on earth did _you_ ever do to her? You were her trusted maidservant for nearly her entire life. Both your lives. More than that, she considered you a friend…"

_What do they know?_ He opens his eyes.

"…prophetic dreams…"

"…queen…"

"…don't know if she's even alive…"

_Very good._

"…don't know where she is…"

_Very good, indeed._

"…used her magic to make me betray you…"

_They know. Not good._

It goes quiet again. Still he listens, more intently now, closing his eyes once again.

Minutes pass, and he hears a low moan, just barely audible. He grins lasciviously and continues to listen, not realizing that in his lewd distraction that his shoe has tapped against the door.

Approaching footsteps reach the ear not pressed to the door, and, cursing softly, he makes his exit, hiding around the corner, still listening.

xXx

Arthur breaks Guinevere's kiss momentarily to shift, leaning over her before return his lips to her, open and wanting. She sighs into him, a moan escaping from her throat.

_What was that?_ She pulls back. "Did you hear something?"

Undeterred and unconcerned, Arthur turns his attention to her neck, placing nibbling kisses there against her sensitive skin.

"Probably just Merlin… picking up… the tray… or something," he mutters between kisses, his hand sliding to her breast while hers come up to his shoulders, feeling the contours of his muscles under her hands.

He descends once again to her waiting lips, kissing softly but with passion, telling her all she needs to know without saying a word.

_I love you. I adore you. I want you. I need you._

"Arthur…" she gasps, her hands sliding down his sides, around his back, her hands tracing the familiar lines. She brings one around to grasp him, finding him already fully hard.

"Guinevere," he whispers roughly against her lips before kissing down her neck again, closing his lips around a breast, lavishing attention on it.

Gwen's fingers lightly trail the length of his shaft and his body jerks reflexively. She smiles, taking him once again in her hand, stroking him. He nibbles lightly at her breast, showing his appreciation.

His hand trails down to touch her, fingers slipping between her legs, parted and waiting for him. She is slick and swollen, just as aroused as he. Arthur smiles against her breasts as he kisses his way to the other one.

He flicks his tongue against her nipple and she responds by squeezing him in her hand. He grunts against her skin, and brings his hand up to remove hers from his manhood lest she stroke him to completion. _That won't do at all. Perhaps another time, though…_

Arthur slides his fingers into her and she sighs, pressing her head back into the pillows. He kisses her arched neck, trailing his tongue from her throat to her ear, where he bites her earlobe gently before sucking it into his mouth to roll it against his tongue.

"Ah…" she sighs again. He releases her earlobe to lean back, rising up slightly, just to look at her.

His fingers move below, and she turns her head to one side, eyelids half closed, full, wet lips parted. Her skin is glistening slightly, a slight sheen highlighting her unique coloring. Her hair is undone and is tossed all around her head, like a halo of dark curls. She is gloriously beautiful in her arousal, and Arthur forgets what he is doing for a moment and his fingers still.

Gwen notices a change and opens her eyes, looking at Arthur. "Arthur? Is something wrong?" she asks.

He blinks a couple times, remembering himself, and says, "Not at all, my sweet. I was distracted by how beautiful you look, actually."

_What? I'm sure I look a complete mess,_ she thinks, but believes him nevertheless. She's learned he likes her a bit disheveled. _I don't understand it, but it makes him happy._

He descends upon her, his lips again hungry for hers, and he thrusts his tongue into her waiting mouth, a preview of things to come. Arthur settles between her legs and pushes into her as he kisses her, swallowing the cry of surprised passion that escaped from Gwen's lips.

Arthur stays still within her, unmoving, just locked together with her, being one with her. He lifts his head and once again looks down at her, his hand caressing her cheek.

"I love you, Guinevere," he whispers as she opens her eyes to look at him.

"And I love you, Arthur," she whispers back, leaning up to kiss his neck.

He starts move, withdrawing slowly, almost pulling completely out before sliding back in, still slowly.

She closes her eyes again, and he continues, very gradually increasing his tempo and intensity until neither of them can think straight.

"Oh…" Gwen gasps, her legs now wrapped around his thighs, her hands gripping his chest.

"Ah…" Arthur grunts, almost a growl, leaning all his weight on one hand so that he can clasp a breast in the other. Faster, harder.

"Yes… oh… _please_…" Guinevere is begging now, her body arching and squirming beneath him. He bends to kiss her again.

He drives forward and back, hammering into her unmercifully, and she takes it, takes it all gladly, relishing his passion.

The sweet burning sensation builds within her loins, increasing, taking hold, taking over until it can no longer be contained and her climax bursts forth. She actually screams with the release of it.

Her scream of pleasure pushes Arthur over the edge right behind her and he comes, flooding into her with a roar pushed through gritted teeth as he once again stills, deep within her, waiting for the waves to crest so he can think again.

Arthur regains his sense and drops slowly atop Gwen, placing a few soft pecks on her lips before dropping his head to nuzzle her neck. He stays rooted inside of her, needing her closeness, craving her very presence. She seems to understand, and caresses his forehead lightly, fingers twining in his hair.

He slowly relaxes, and Gwen can feel some of the tension leave him. She continues to stroke his hair, his temple, his cheek, trailing her fingers where she can reach.

He sighs, and it is a contented sigh, not one of the heavy mournful ones she heard earlier. Arthur squeezes her, kisses her shoulder, and gently eases himself off of her, out of her.

He curls onto his side and pulls Gwen up to him, spooning behind her. He nestles his face into her hair for a moment, inhaling her scent before kissing her neck. He settles his head back on his pillow, and with his arm securely around Guinevere, he drifts off to sleep.

xXx

"What have you got there?" Gwaine intercepts Percival in the corridor. He is carrying something that he hides upon hearing Gwaine's voice.

"Nothing."

"Are those… flowers?"

"Of course not." Percival then notices Gwaine seems to be camouflaging something in his hands as well.

"What have _you_ got there?" he counters.

"Certainly not flowers," Gwaine says. The two men regard each other for a moment, standing.

"Well, I'll be seeing you around then," Percival says, starting to walk.

"Um, yeah, see you at dinner," Gwaine also starts walking. The same direction.

He sneaks a quick peek. "You _have_ got flowers!"

Percival stops walking again. "Yes, I have flowers, see?" He brandishes them in Gwaine's face. He's got a bunch of lavender tied with a long ribbon. Then he suddenly grabs Gwaine and spins him around, revealing what he's hiding.

"And so do you, I see."

"Fine, fine, I've got flowers, too. What of it? I feel horrible for Gwen and I wanted to leave her a small token of—"

"Apology," Percival finishes Gwaine's sentence. "I know." He waves the bunch of flowers at Gwaine.

The two knights start walking again, towards the royal chambers. "At least mine are in water," Gwaine goads.

"This is lavender, Gwaine. It's to be dried."

"For what?"

"I don't know, for whatever a lady wishes to do with dried lavender. Elyan told me she always had bunches of flowers, especially lavender, hanging like this," he holds the bunch by the ribbon, dangling it briefly, "in her house. So I thought she'd like it."

Gwaine leans over and smells it. "It smells like her."

Percival raises his eyebrow. "How do you know what the queen smells like?"

"Relax, Guinevere and I go way back. We're old mates, we are."

"Still wouldn't recommend talking about the way she smells in front of Arthur," he chuckles. "Your flowers look like hell, by the way."

"Hey, I picked them myself. Gwen will appreciate them, I know." Gwaine defends his pathetic bouquet of wildflowers, resting charmingly in a metal mug usually used to swig mead or ale.

They reach the door just as Leon is attempting to steal away, having left his own token. A small jewel-encrusted dagger.

"Oh. Hello," he stammers. Then he notices their flowers and relaxes. "I see you lads had the same idea."

"A dagger, Leon? That's… unique," Gwaine says. They take care to stand a distance away from the doors so they are not heard. And so they do not hear what's going on inside.

"I want Queen Guinevere to have something she can carry with which to protect herself, that's all."

"Ah," Gwaine nods, humoring him. _Leon and his weaponry,_ he thinks, sighing internally. _Pity the woman he marries._

As Gwaine and Percival bend to leave their flowers, they hear Guinevere cry out from the other side of the door.

"Yes… oh… _please_…"

Leon's eyes open wide, and Percival blushes. A knowing smirk crosses Gwaine's face and he shoves the others and whispers, "Let's go."

A few feet down the corridor, Guinevere's scream reaches their ears. The three knights freeze in their tracks. Percival and Leon both blush crimson. Gwaine just grins and says, "Atta boy, Arthur."

xXx

_Interesting,_ the figure hidden around the corner thinks. _So they definitely know, and are telling the entire kingdom._


	10. Chapter 10

"Merlin!" A voice calls to him. He has gone to the lower town to pick up a few things for Gaius. Lord Roderick continues to leave him thankfully undisturbed, so he is actually able to get a few things accomplished.

He turns in the direction of the voice. It is Wilhelmina, the blacksmith's wife.

"Hello," he greets her.

"Um… will you give this to Queen Guinevere for me please?" she says hastily, shoving a linen-wrapped parcel into his arms. It is warm.

"Sure, what is it?"

"A loaf of fresh bread, her favorite kind."

Merlin furrows his brow.

"I… heard about what happened."

"Elyan," Merlin says, remembering the knight had been there earlier.

"Yes, we all feel for the poor dear. She and the king must be beside themselves, if you don't mind me saying."

"Not at all. They are dealing with the revelation quite… well, I think." _Don't blush. Don't blush. Don't you dare blush._

"Well, if you could deliver this small token, I'd be in your debt," she says.

"Not a problem at all, thanks." He turns to leave, his face puzzling.

He continues his way through the streets, and is hailed by another person wishing to bestow a token on the queen, this one a bunch of fresh flowers. And another, an embroidered linen handkerchief. More flowers. A basket of apples. A small bottle of perfume from the apothecary and his wife.

When the butcher tries to give him a leg of lamb, Merlin draws the line. "Jack, I cannot carry any more!" he protests.

"I'll have my boy bring it up, then," he insists, gesturing for his son.

Sighing, Merlin continues to the palace, now laden with gifts for the queen from subjects wishing to express their love and support in the only way they know how.

He reaches the gates to the castle and stops dead in his tracks. There are more things piled at the gates and people are in the process of leaving more even as he passes.

_Wow._

The love the people have for their queen, born one of them, is flowing forth and cannot be stopped.

Merlin heaves towards the palace doors, grabbing the same page who tracked him down earlier.

"Peter," he calls, "find another page – wait, make it two more – and go to the gates. Collect the items piled there and bring them up to the royal chambers."

"Two? The royal chambers? I thought the king—"

"Yes, yes, they are still to remain undisturbed. But we must take these items to Queen Guinevere," he says, hoisting the bundle of things in his arms. "One page is to stay posted there to receive any gifts while the other runs back with the items. I have a feeling these tokens will continue to arrive."

"What is all this for?" Peter asks.

Merlin thinks, looking at the page. _He's just a boy._ "Evidence has just come forth clearing Queen Guinevere of any past… wrongdoing."

Peter's eyes widen, and Merlin remembers that the boy always had a bit of a crush on Gwen. "Really? _Really?_"

"Yes. Now go. I will meet you upstairs."

xXx

Merlin strides through the corridors, heading for the royal chambers with his deliveries. He arrives to find two bunches of flowers already there, and a jeweled dagger.

_Who are these from, now?_ He sets his items down and peers at the notes left with the gifts. Percival. Gwaine. Leon. _Of course._

Peter appears at the end of the hall, arms laden with flowers, mostly in shades of purple.

"Wow," he says setting them down and looking at all the tokens.

"Shhh," Merlin cautions. He doesn't hear anything coming from the room right now, but he is trying to be extra careful and quiet. "They are not to be disturbed, so we must be very quiet," he whispers to the boy. "How much more is out there?"

"Lots of flowers," Peter whispers. "And people are still dropping off more tokens."

Merlin smiles.

"They all love Queen Guinevere," Peter says.

"Of course they do. She's a wonderful person."

"You were friends with her, weren't you?"

"Still am."

"But, how can that be, now that she's the queen and you're yet a servant?"

Merlin sighs. "It just is. She's still the same person, Peter. And I think that's why everyone loves her."

Just then Merlin hears the door lock click and the door starts to open. He shoos Peter away and turns to the door.

"Merlin?" Gwen whispers.

"Hi," Merlin replies. He pretends not to notice that she is only wearing a dressing gown.

"I thought I heard you out here." She opens the door a little further and notices the gifts. "What's all this?"

"Tokens of support, love, and appreciation from your subjects, my lady," he says, bowing with a flourish.

Gwen laughs at Merlin and asks, "From whom?" She bends to pick up the dagger and its note.

"From _everyone,_ Gwen. Word is getting around, thanks to your brother."

Gwen smiles at the note from Leon, but then her head shoots up at the mention of Elyan. "My goodness, what is he doing, walking the streets proclaiming my innocence?"

"No," he laughs. "He went to the blacksmith's to destroy the bracelet."

"Aha…" Gwen nods, light dawning. Then she scowls and says, "That's actually quite clever, much as I hate to admit it. He's found a way to spread the word in a relatively normal way."

"Go easy on him, Gwen, he feels just awful," Merlin says, "He's been beating himself up about the whole thing all day."

She sighs, lifting the mug of flowers. She doesn't need to look at the note; the small white flowers in the mug look remarkably similar to the one Gwaine placed in her hair the day he met her and tried to chat her up in the street.

"Where's Arthur?" Merlin asks.

As if on cue, a loud snore drifts out the door. Gwen smiles. "At least that means he's sleeping deeply," she says. "Help me bring these in, please."

"How is he?" Merlin asks as he lifts several bouquets and sets them on the table while Gwen quietly bustles around looking for containers for them all.

"Better. At least I think so, anyway. We, um, talked quite a bit…" she says, not looking at him, nervously tucking a stray curl behind her ear. He lets it go.

"I'm glad he's feeling better. He doesn't deal well with his emotions. That's why I'm so glad he has you, Gwen; you help him with that."

She brings in the bread from the blacksmith's wife, leaning in to smell it. "Mmm. From Wilhelmina, I presume?"

He nods. "It was still warm when she gave it to me."

"It still is. We'll have some with our dinner."

There is some slight noise outside the door. Peter and Colton, another page, are dropping off more tokens.

"More?" Gwen says, turning her head.

Merlin goes to the door and brings them in. Still more flowers, another embroidered handkerchief, a carved bone hair comb, and a jar of honey.

"Ah, I see the beekeeper's been," Merlin says, holding it aloft.

"Something to have on the bread, then," Gwen says. She takes the comb from him. "Lovely," she pronounces it, and brings it to her vanity table in the corner.

As she walks back, Merlin notices she appears to be wearing a pair of Arthur's socks. He looks down at her feet with a puzzled look on his face.

She sees his look and shrugs. "My feet were cold."

He makes a face, and she says, "I did take clean ones, Merlin, obviously."

Merlin laughs, quietly, and Arthur snores again, flipping over on the bed, arm vaguely groping the bedclothes.

"He's looking for you," Merlin says, and turns to leave.

"Merlin," Gwen calls softly after him.

"Yes?"

"You can bring dinner at sundown, please."

"Yes, my lady," he nods to her and leaves.

xXx

_I'd better check on Lord Dungball,_ Merlin thinks, heading down the corridor towards the guest room where Lord Roderick is staying the night.

As he rounds a corner, he sees a man standing in the hallway, apparently lost. It's the Lord's servant. He's a nondescript mouse of a man, pale, dressed all in brown with brown eyes and brown hair.

"Hello?" Merlin says. "Lose your way?"

"Oh," he turns, "Yes, it appears so. You're… King Arthur's servant?"

"Yes, Merlin," he offers his hand. "I didn't get a chance to introduce myself earlier, sorry. It's been a bit of an unusual day around here."

"Bertrand," the other servant says as they shake hands. "And don't worry about it. It must be very trying to be the king's servant when the king wishes to be undisturbed."

"I've had better days, but I've definitely had worse," Merlin chuckles. Bertrand smiles vaguely, but the smile does not reach his eyes. "Are you looking for your master's quarters, then?" Merlin asks.

"Yes, can you show me the way?"

"Of course, I was just heading there myself to check on him."

"That won't be necessary."

_That's odd,_ Merlin thinks, but shrugs. "Um, all right. I was going to ask him what he might prefer for dinner, but…"

"He will have roast chicken," Bertrand says.

"All right, then, I think that can be arranged," Merlin says, a little puzzled now. "Ah, here we are," he indicates the door.

"Thank you. Lord Roderick will dine in his quarters in an hour."

"I will arrange it, then."

_Well, he's certainly a sparkling conversationalist,_ Merlin thinks as he turns to leave.

xXx

Gwen walks to the bed where Arthur is still sleeping. He doesn't seem to be searching for her any more and has settled back down.

_He looks so peaceful. So young and innocent._ She remembers the skinny, impertinent lad tearing around the castle when she first arrived a lifetime ago, just a girl herself. Then the brash, headstrong youth, full of himself and ready to take on the world. The young man, still arrogant to the point of rudeness at times, showing flashes of kindness, hints of fairness, teases of a good heart beating beneath all the bravado.

She gazes down at him, now the man she loves, still flawed but growing stronger, wiser, _better_ each day. She sits on the bed beside him and strokes his hair. He snorts and mumbles something incoherent, throwing his arm across her legs as if he senses her presence.

_How did I get here?_ she vaguely wonders. _How did I go from a simple serving girl who thought Prince Arthur was a prat and an idiot to Queen of Camelot, married to Arthur the King? Was I born under a fortunate star? No. There's been too much pain in my life for that to be it._

"Hngoo sss…ife ennn…" Arthur's arm tightens around her thighs as he mumbles in his sleep again. Gwen chuckles, wondering if he'll say anything interesting. Or intelligible.

She turns her head, looking out into the other part of the chambers, at the tokens the people have brought. She can occasionally hear sounds outside the door, but they are getting fewer and farther between.

She sighs. All this attention is overwhelming her a bit. _I hate the thought of the people gifting me things, things they should keep themselves in some cases,_ she thinks of the comb and the food and the perfume and the honey. All things of value. _But I cannot turn the gifts away, that would be very rude and I would appear unappreciative._

The bunch of lavender from Percival swings in the breeze by the window where she's hung it and the scent reaches her nose. _Even the knights have felt compelled to show their love._ This touches her, but then she frowns again. _Though I could not help but notice there was nothing from Elyan._ She chides herself for the selfish thought, knowing that no one is obligated to bring her anything, even her own brother.

"What are you frowning at?" a deep sleepy voice rises from the vicinity of her hip.

"Myself, actually," she chuckles.

"Well, stop it. You shouldn't be frowning at yourself. It's not healthy."

"Hypocrite. You frown at yourself all the time."

"I never claimed to be healthy," he says, snuggling against her, placing his head in her lap.

"Why are you wearing my socks?"

xXx

"My Lord," Bertrand says, causing Lord Roderick to jump and spin suddenly around.

"How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me, Bertrand?" he snaps.

"I do apologize, my lord. But I have news."

Roderick sets his goblet down and crosses to him. "Yes, well, your stealth is part of why I hired you. Out with it."

"They know."

"I see. And what of the serving wench?"

"She and the king were… happily ensconced in their quarters, my lord," he says pointedly.

"As I expected. They're off _copulating_ the day away while I remain ignored."

"Indeed, my lord."

"I knew it would be much more interesting to arrive before the appointed date," he says with a sly smile devoid of any humor.

"You are very smart, my lord."

"So they know. And…?"

"And word is spreading around the kingdom. Fast. From what I understand, the knight who is her brother started the word around by telling one gossipy person."

"So?"

"So now the entire kingdom knows and their subjects are now sending gifts. Tokens of love and support for their wronged 'queen.' Even some of the knights are leaving flowers for her."

Roderick makes a face. "Disgusting," he says, punctuated by a loud belch.

"Speaking of, the wench _may_ be with child. I could only hear snatches of that conversation, so I cannot say for sure, but they were either talking about the possibility of it or she actually is."

"Hmm," he taps his fingers on the tabletop. "The Lady will not be pleased if it is so."

"Indeed not, my lord."

"Fetch me a parchment and a quill."

"Yes, my lord."

xXx

"Did you sleep well?" Gwen asks, returning to the bed with a goblet of water for Arthur.

"Yes, actually. Had a very odd dream, though." He takes the goblet and drinks, sitting up.

"You? You rarely ever dream, and if you do, you don't remember them."

"I remember this one."

"What was it?"

"I was walking in a forest. I was lost."

"You were lost? You?"

"It wasn't any forest I'd ever seen before. I was walking and walking. I thought I was going in a straight line, but I kept seeing the same trees. The patterns of branches and bark kept repeating; I kept seeing the same turtle-shaped boulder. But I swear I never turned to the right or to the left."

He furrows his brow and continues. "The ground beneath my feet was solid and hard. Then gradually it changed. Soon it was soft dirt, then loose gravel, and I was beginning to sink. Then sand, soft, loose sand. I could barely lift my feet out, and with each step I sank further in. I wanted to stop walking but I couldn't. I just kept lifting my feet, higher and higher each time, and putting them back down until finally I was in up to my hips and couldn't move any further."

"Oh, my God," Gwen says, her hand over her mouth.

"I couldn't walk any more, yet I was still sinking. Just deeper and deeper. It was up to my chest, and I was reaching out with my hands, looking for something to grab on to."

Gwen remembers him groping the bed earlier. _What if I had been here? What if he had found me in the bed? Would I have saved him in his dream?_ She keeps quiet for now and lets him continue.

"There was nothing to grab. It was dark now and I couldn't even see the trees any more. I was up to my neck in the sand."

"Were you struggling? Kicking, anything?"

"No. I just stayed still. I guess I thought if I struggled I would just sink faster."

"Sorry. Go on."

"It's okay," he takes another drink. "I was gasping for air, knowing that shortly my face would be below the surface and I would soon suffocate. I've no shame in admitting that I was petrified."

"I'd be surprised if you weren't."

"But then, just as my head went below the surface, I felt a hand grab my left hand. It was your hand."

"Mine? How do you know it was mine?"

"Guinevere, really," he says. "Close your eyes." She does, and he takes her hand in his. "Would you not know my hand by its touch alone?"

She smiles and opens her eyes. "Yes, of course."

"You tried to pull me up. I could feel you heaving with all your tiny might, and I did raise some."

Gwen scowls, wanting to have been his hero.

"It was at that time I felt another hand grasp my right hand. It was a larger hand, rough, a man's hand."

"Who's hand?"

"I'll get there. This second hand pulled in concert with yours and eventually the two of you pulled me free, where I landed back on solid ground. The sky was once again light and I could see Camelot in the distance."

"So who _was_ it? The other hand?"

"Merlin."


	11. Chapter 11

Merlin delivers their dinner as promised, setting the tray outside their door among the last remaining tokens for Gwen. He has finished the draft of the letter to Queen Annis, and he places it on the tray as well for Arthur to review. Then he knocks and leaves.

As soon as Merlin is out of sight, Bertrand slinks up, ears on alert. He can hear talking, very distant, inside the chambers. He reaches for the parchment and unrolls it, eyes scanning the words quickly.

_Opportunity has presented itself, gift wrapped._

He hears footsteps approaching, and he quickly rolls the parchment back up and drops it back on the tray before scurrying away on silent feet to report back to his master.

xXx

Gwen opens the door to retrieve their dinner. She sets the tray on the table and goes back, brings in the last bouquets and closes and locks the door once again.

"Bring it over here," Arthur calls. He's put some trousers on and is sitting on some skins in front of a dwindling fire.

As Gwen carries the tray to him, he goes to the wood box so that he can rekindle the fire. The sun has just sunk below the horizon and the air is cooling.

"I'll do that," Guinevere says as she sets the tray down. "I'm better at it anyway."

Arthur pouts and hands her the branch in his hand.

"Too big," she says, tossing it back in the box. He scowls and plops down on a cushion.

"I never thought I'd hear you complain about the size of my branch, Guinevere," he says, distributing food onto their plates from the platter. Roast chicken has been prepared for everyone, since Lord Roderick had requested it.

Gwen bursts forth laughing at Arthur's comment as she neatly places kindling onto the embers, stacking them lengthwise like a tent over the smoldering pieces.

"You are a naughty man, my king," she says over her shoulder.

"And you understood my meaning, my queen, so what does that say about you?"

"It says I have spent far too much time in your company." She kneels and blows gently, and after a few seconds, the kindling catches. She waits another minute or two until she is certain that it will stay lit, and then adds some larger pieces to the fire.

She sits on a cushion beside Arthur, and he places her plate in front of her.

"Arthur, this is far too much food for me," she complains. _His plate looks much more reasonable._

"That's because it's not for you," he says. He lifts a piece of chicken from the plate in front of him with his fingers and offers it to her.

_Oh, so it's_ that _kind of picnic,_ Gwen thinks, smiling as she takes the meat delicately between her teeth. She reaches down and picks up some chicken and holds it up for him. He leans forward and takes it from her, making sure his lips touch her fingers when he does.

They continue to feed each other before the roaring fire, speaking very little. Gwen offers him a couple long green beans from between her own lips. Arthur pours them both some wine. She receives another piece of chicken and holds his hand in hers, gently licking his fingers, her small tongue warm and wet on his sensitive fingertips. Gwen dips a piece of the bread into the honey and offers it to him. He takes it from her, leaving her fingers slightly sticky, so he gently sucks the honey off each finger in turn.

He gives her the last of her chicken, and she feeds him more vegetables. Now that Gwen is done eating, Arthur lounges back. She raises an eyebrow at him, amused at his arrogance, and tosses a hunk of chicken at him, which he catches in his mouth with a laugh.

She scoots closer to him and feeds him the rest of his dinner while he amuses himself by slowly opening her dressing gown.

"You think you're being subtle, then?" she casually asks, dropping another bean into his open mouth.

"Hmm?"

"I know what you're doing, Arthur. Don't think I haven't noticed that you've untied the belt to my dressing gown."

"Oh, goodness, however did that happen?" he asks innocently. She holds the final piece of chicken to his lips, and when he reaches for it, she pulls it away, a challenge on her face.

"Hey!"

He tries again and she again evades him.

"That's it!" he grabs her suddenly and pulls her over him, kissing her soundly as he reaches for her hand.

He plunders her mouth with his tongue, then breaks away to snatch the chicken from her fingers.

"Got it."

"Oh! You…" she warns, laughing now. He slips his hands around her waist, inside the robe. It had opened fully when he pulled her atop him, and her breasts were now pressed against his chest.

Arthur is reminded of the day she tackled him in the courtyard, and an impish smirk crosses his face.

"What are you thinking about, as if I need to ask?"

"Actually, Wife, I was thinking about how you saved me from that flying gargoyle. I believe we ended up in a position very similar to this," he says, eyes dropping to her chest.

"Except I was dressed," she says.

"Which was a pity."

"So you weren't kidding when you said it was 'your pleasure,' then, were you?" she smiles.

He shakes his head. "Not really, no. I rather enjoyed having you landing on me, regardless of the circumstances." He pulls her head down to him and kisses her again and his hands come up to ease the robe from her shoulders.

xXx

"And you say the _servant_ wrote this letter?" Lord Roderick asks.

"Yes, my lord. It was an official correspondence with Queen Annis of Caerleon. Asking her to host a meeting between King Arthur and King Odin."

"When?"

"One month's time. If Odin agrees to such a meeting, I presume."

"He may not. He has hated Arthur for years."

"But they are both allies with Caerleon."

"Indeed," the lord muses, walking to the window. "What kind of a king lets his servant write important correspondence such as this? I suppose he'll have the boy writing his speeches next," he says, partly to himself. He turns back to Bertrand. "Since when do mere servants know how to read and write, anyway? That's just not _done._"

"I know how to read and write, my lord."

"True, but you're not _really_ a servant, are you?"

"Perhaps he isn't either." Bertrand raises an eyebrow.

"Hmm. Fetch me the letter and a quill."

"Yes, my lord."

Roderick sits, unrolling the parchment, and starts adding to his letter.

"The boy should be arriving soon with your dinner, my lord," Bertrand warns.

"I will just have to write quickly, then, won't I?" he says tersely.

A moment later there is a firm but polite knock on the door. Bertrand looks at the lord.

"Retrieve the tray and do not let him in," Roderick says, not looking up from his parchment.

"Lord Roderick's dinner," Merlin says, pushing past Bertrand and his outstretched hands to step into the room. Roderick hurriedly sets his quill in the inkpot and lets the parchment on which he is writing roll up.

"But—" Bertrand protests, hurrying after him. Merlin sets the tray on the table and tries to look like he's _not_ looking at the parchment.

_What was he writing that he so quickly had to conceal?_

Still ignoring Bertrand's clumsy attempts to shoo him from the room, he starts setting the Lord's place for him.

He fills a goblet with wine from a jug and sets it close to the edge of the table. As he opens a linen napkin for the lord, he _accidentally_ bumps the goblet, spilling its contents on Lord Roderick's lap.

Lord Roderick jumps up. "Clumsy oaf!"

"Oh! I am _terribly_ sorry, my lord, please…" Merlin starts to dab at the man with the napkin, and is shoved for his pains.

"Get away from me, you _peasant!_ Bertrand! Assist me." He walks away from the table to the privacy screen in the corner to change his trousers. Bertrand follows, going to his lord's bag to retrieve a new pair. Merlin busies himself cleaning up the spilled wine.

Once he is certain they are paying him no mind, he looks to the parchment. His eyes briefly flash and it uncurls for him. An easy old trick, simple but quite effective.

His eyes quickly scan the letter, addressed simply to "My Lady." Roderick's penmanship is cramped and jagged, but Merlin is able to make out all he needs to know in a short time.

_Someone has been doing some snooping._

"My lord," Merlin calls, closing the parchment, "if you will allow me to take your trousers to the laundry, I'll have them cleaned for you."

"You are not to come near me or my trousers, boy. Send a maid to retrieve them. A young, pretty one."

_Gross._ "Very well, my lord. Enjoy your dinner," Merlin calls and leaves quickly.

_What do I do now?_

xXx

"What's all that?" Arthur asks, having finally noticed the abundance of flowers in the room. He holds Guinevere close beside him, their naked bodies flushed and slightly sweaty after making love in front of the fireplace.

"Tokens," Gwen says simply, her hand stroking his chest lightly.

"Tokens?"

"Yes, you know, gifts. For me."

"From whom?" His fingers glide randomly along the line of her hip.

"Most of the kingdom, it seems. Apparently Elyan has spread the word and the people are showing their love and support. I'm rather… overwhelmed, actually."

He sits up suddenly. "Really? That's… that's wonderful! The people love you!" He stands and pulls his trousers back on and gives her his hand to help her up before he holds her dressing gown for her to slide her arms in.

"Show me," he says.

"Well, you've seen some already: the bread and honey at dinner were gifted from the blacksmith's wife and the beekeeper."

"That was really good bread," Arthur says.

"You just liked licking the honey off of my fingers," she teases.

"I wouldn't mind licking honey off of your—"

"Arthur!"

"Just a thought…"

Guinevere blushes and shows him the comb. "This is from the furrier's widow, Gytha. I'm sure her late husband made it."

"It's beautiful. He made good use of the bones, didn't he?"

"I do try not to think about where it came from, Love." She sets it down.

"The apothecary and his wife sent this," she holds up the small bottle for him to sniff.

"Not bad," he says, "though I prefer your normal scent."

"I don't normally wear any perfume, Arthur."

"You mean you smell like that naturally?" his eyebrows fly up in surprise. "That's just unfair."

She laughs. "Unfair to whom?"

"Other women everywhere, I guess. And flowers. And perfumes," he says, pointing at the bottle before sticking his face into the side of her neck, burying it in her hair and inhaling deeply.

She giggles again and pushes him playfully away.

"Flowers, flowers, flowers… what's this?" he picks up the dagger. It is small, the handle much to small for his broad hand but he can tell right away that it would fit Guinevere's hand quite nicely. There is an amethyst set in the handle and the blade is stout but sharp. It is in a sheath with a slot to pass a belt through so she can carry it easily on her person.

He holds it up and looks at her with a raised eyebrow.

She laughs, "It's from Sir Leon, Arthur." She picks up the note and hands it to him.

_My Lady,_ he reads, _Please accept this humble token from your Captain of the Guards. It would ease his heart to know that you have something with which to protect yourself should a need arise. Ever your servant, Sir Leon._

"That's Leon, all right," Arthur says.

"I think it's very sweet," she says, walking slowly around the room. "Percival," she indicates the lavender hanging in the window. She indicates the mug on the table.

"Gwaine?" Arthur guesses. She nods, smiling.

"What gave it away?"

"That's his favorite mug. I can tell by the dents."

"Well, I knew it was his by the sad little flowers," she laughs. "He tried to put one in my hair once, you know."

His eyebrows raise.

"It was the first time he was here in Camelot, Arthur. He didn't even know who I was at the time. I was just a pretty face in the street."

"Oh?"

"Your eyes are turning green, my lord. He tried and got nowhere, I assure you," she says, laying her hand aside his cheek.

"Oh, is that so? That's not exactly how _I_ remember it," he says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I saw you in the street with him when he was leaving, laughing and touching his chest."

_He's really trying hard not to smile,_ she notes. "Were you spying on me?"

"Certainly not! I just… happened to be standing on the parapet, casually observing the town below, chatting with Merlin."

"Just 'happened to be,' hmm?"

"Yes."

"Since when do you _chat_ with Merlin?"

"It… happens occasionally…"

"Am I going to have to ask Merlin what _really_ happened?" Now she crosses her arms in front of her chest.

His eyes grow wide. _Merlin will definitely tell her I was jealous._ "Honest! I was just standing there. Okay, once I saw how _friendly_ you two were, I was a little less than thrilled…"

"You _were_ jealous!" she laughs, uncrossing her arms.

He puts his arms around her and tries a different tactic. "Even then, you were mine. In my mind, in my heart, you belonged only to me."

"You're a possessive brute, you are," she smiles up at him.

"Yes," he says simply, leaning his head down to kiss her. "Anything else interesting or is it only flowers left?"

She pulls away, nodding, and lifts three embroidered handkerchiefs from the table.

"The cooper's wife." Next, "Marta, the cobbler's daughter." Finally, "Franklin," she says, with a puzzled look.

"The barber?" Arthur says. "The _strangely never-married_ barber?" he adds, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh!" she exclaims, "Surely not…"

"Yep."

"Really?"

"Yep." He nods.

"_With who?_" she whispers, leaning in close.

"Guinevere! Surely you are not interested in gossip?" he teases.

"Only as much as anyone else," she shrugs.

"Well, I do not know, sorry to disappoint. And I don't really desire to know, thank you very much."

"Oof, you are no fun at all," she says, setting it down.

He laughs at her as she walks a couple steps away.

"Candles, from…"

"The candlemaker, obviously," Arthur supplies.

"As for the rest of the flowers, I don't even know where to begin."

"They're almost all purple," he observes, smiling.

"Apparently they know it is a color I favor."

"So," he takes her hands in his. "We must make sure to thank the people for their outpouring of love and support for their queen during this trying time."

"Indeed," she smiles at him, and he lifts her knuckles to his lips.

"We can't have them thinking you ungrateful," he says, pulling her closer, kissing her neck.

"That would not do at all," she says, her hands on his shoulders.

He opens his eyes for a second and sees the parchment on the table. Kissing her one more time, he asks, "What's that?"

"Oh, it was with our dinner. I think it's the letter for Queen Annis. Merlin must have left it."

Arthur reluctantly leaves her embrace and picks it up. He unrolls it and reads it, nodding. "Well done, Merlin," he mutters, and strides to his desk with it. Sitting, he signs his name, rolls it back up, and seals it. He walks back over, picking up the dinner tray on his way past and sets the parchment on it.

He puts the tray and letter back outside the door for Merlin to retrieve.

"Now. Where were we, my beloved queen?"


	12. Chapter 12

_Door's still closed. Do I knock? I wouldn't want to walk in on… anything._ Merlin is fretting outside the doors to the royal quarters. The sun is high in the sky, and he is getting nervous about Lord Roderick and his… _mood._

He raises his fist to the door, ready to knock, but hesitates. Again. He drops his hand and curses softly, stepping back and right into a bench, which he trips over.

"Gah!" he shouts, hopping on one foot in the corridor.

A moment later he hears the metallic slide and _click_ of the lock and the door inches open.

Merlin looks up. "Sorry."

Guinevere's face emerges in the crack between the doors, and she is laughing at him. "Merlin, how long have you been out here agonizing over whether or not to knock?"

"Long enough," he says, limping in though the door.

"Ah, Merlin, nice of you to join us this morning," Arthur says, strolling into from the sleeping quarters, fully dressed. He kisses Gwen on the cheek as she retreats to go dress.

A young maid, seeing the door open, knocks politely and Arthur bids her enter. She scurries past him with a curtsey to go assist Guinevere.

"Sorry, Sire, I wasn't sure…"

"Quite all right, quite all right," he waves a hand dismissively. "Did you get the letter sent off to Queen Annis?"

"I did, my lord," Merlin feels off balance. _Is this Arthur? He seems almost cheerful._

"So what did I miss yesterday? Any exciting news from the world of armor-polishing and floor-scrubbing? Perhaps some news from the tavern?" he says pointedly.

_Curse Gaius and his lack of imagination,_ Merlin thinks. "Actually, Lord Roderick arrived yesterday."

"What? He wasn't due till next week!" Arthur sits. "Why didn't you alert me?"

"Well, you did tell me that you were to be undisturbed. So I did not disturb you. I did as you said: I dealt with it. I wasn't about to interrupt you and Gwen just because that…" he gropes for a word, "…_person_ was here well before he should have been."

"Come now, Merlin, surely you can do better than that," Arthur says, leaning back in his chair.

"My lord?" Merlin doesn't follow.

"Really, the man is a boorish idiot with all the manners of a toad."

"Ah. Well, I have been _mentally_ referring to him as 'Lord Dungball.'"

"Lord Dungball?" Gwen asks, appearing again, dressed in a simple pale blue gown. "Who is Lord Dungball?" To the maid, she says, "Thank you, Daisy," as the girl hurries out the door again, stifling a giggle at the conversation happening around her.

Arthur stops laughing and says, "Lord Roderick of Clarence. He's gotten his weeks confused."

"Well, if Merlin's calling him 'Lord Dungball,' he must be lovely," she says, leaning against the table and crossing her arms in front of her chest. Arthur notes that she's wearing the dagger on her belt and the hair comb is tucked into her hair, which is pulled back away from her face and long down her back.

"Gwen, you have no idea," Merlin says, turning to her. "The man is the _worst_kind of noble. He has absolutely no regard for anyone he sees as being below his station. Which is nearly everyone, as far as I can tell."

Gwen's smile slides from her face. _Great._

"When I greeted him and remarked that we weren't expecting him until next week, he treated me like an idiot and said that _I_ was wrong. But then when Leon came up and said the same thing, he was all, 'Oh, terribly sorry, I must have gotten my weeks confused.' Pig."

"Thank you for the warning, Merlin," she says, looking a bit uneasy.

"Don't be worried, my love," Arthur stands and pulls her into his arms. "You are the queen now. If he has a problem with you, he'll have to answer to me," he says. His hand brushes against the dagger at her waist. "And the rest of the kingdom as well, from the looks of things," he adds.

He kisses her forehead, then turns to Merlin.

"Merlin. Go and tell Lord Dungball that we will breakfast with him in the great hall. May as well get it over with; that way he can slink out of here and be on his way sooner."

Merlin stares, unused to this Arthur. "You seem very… chipper… this morning."

"Why shouldn't I be happy, Merlin? I just got to spend almost the entire day with my very beautiful and virtuous wife," he looks back at her and she smiles lovingly at him. "A great weight has been lifted from our shoulders, and you not only did an excellent job on the letter to Queen Annis, but you exceeded my expectations in keeping us undisturbed, my friend." He places his hand on Merlin's shoulder and giving it a pat.

"The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, I'm surrounded by a ridiculous amount of flowers, what's not to be happy about?"

Merlin stares. He looks over Arthur's shoulder at Gwen. "Who is this and what have you done with the _real_ Arthur?"

Gwen just smiles, chuckling a little.

"Go," Arthur gives Merlin a gentle shove. "We will meet you in the hall."

He leaves them, shaking his head as he walks to Roderick's rooms. _Should I have said something about my suspicions?_ He wonders as he walks. _Best to wait. Watch him closely at breakfast, Merlin._

As he passes a window, he sees a lone figure riding off, away from Camelot. He peers. _Is that…?_ Looking around first to confirm he is alone, he mutters a word and his eyes flash. He is able to focus in on the rider, as if he is just a few yards behind him.

_Bertrand. Where the hell is he going?_

xXx

_Queen Annis, ruler of Caerleon._

_ My dear friend, I humbly write to ask a favor of you. As you know, King Odin and myself have been at odds for many years now. It is my wish to try and repair this rift and make peace between our two kingdoms. As ally to us both, I beg of your hospitality to stage a meeting between King Odin and myself within the borders of your kingdom. I would like to propose a date of one month from now, if you are agreeable. I will wait upon your reply before dispatching a messenger to Odin._

_ Respectfully yours,_

_ Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot._

"Fetch me a length of parchment and a quill," Queen Annis looks up from the letter and commands her handmaiden.

"Yes, my lady."

"Make that two lengths of parchment."

"Yes, my lady."

xXx

Merlin heaves an exasperated sigh. _I do feel better knowing that Arthur doesn't like him,_ he thinks. _But it doesn't make this any less unpleasant._

He reaches the door and knocks.

"Who is it?" an irritated voice calls.

"Merlin, my lord. I bring news from the king."

"Enter."

He opens the door and sees that the lord is not yet dressed. _Probably because his servant is off doing God knows what._ His back is to Merlin and he is looking out the window.

"My lord," he bows slightly, cringing as he does so, "King Arthur and Queen Guinevere bid you join them to break your fast in the great hall."

"Ah. Very good," he turns and regards him suspiciously. "Help me dress then, boy."

Merlin bites back a smile and walks toward him, not relishing his task, but realizing that he's found a way to make it bearable. "Where… is your servant, my lord? Bertrand?"

"I… ah… sent him on an errand," Roderick says vaguely as he steps behind the dressing screen.

"What kind of errand?" he asks innocently. He looks to make certain he can't be seen by the Lord and scans the room quickly, looking for the letter. There is no sign of it. Not on the desk, the table, the bed; nowhere.

_That means he's either secured it in his bags, or…_ he remembers the sight of Bertrand riding quickly away.

"It is no concern of yours," the lord snaps, bringing Merlin out of his thoughts.

"Forgive me, my lord, I simply asked because surely whatever you sent him for was unnecessary. I'm certain we could accommodate whatever need you may have." _Oh, don't even try to keep up with this game, Dungball, I am so much better at it than you are,_ Merlin thinks.

"It is still no concern of yours," he says, walking out from behind the screen. Merlin notices he is sweating. It is not warm in the room.

"My lord, are you ill?" Merlin asks, holding the man's jacket up for him.

"Excuse me?" Lord Roderick asks, shoving his arms, fat and shapeless like sausages, into the sleeves.

"I only ask because you seem to be sweating. Generally that is an indicator of excessive heat," he brushes the lint from the jacket, "exertion," he straightens his collar, "anxiety," he steps back and gives him a once over, "or illness." He hands him his boots.

Roderick takes his boots and stares coldly at the boy, disliking him more each second.

"And, since it is not excessively hot in here nor have you been exercising…" he trails off for a moment, walking slowly to the door, "And I cannot imagine what you could _possibly_ be anxious about, I merely assumed you may be ill."

"Indeed."

"Just looking out for the well-being of our guests, my lord," Merlin says, opening the door. Roderick sweeps past him and starts marching down the hall.

"Lord Roderick?" Merlin calls after him.

"What?" he snaps back.

"The great hall is _this_ way."

xXx

Arthur and Guinevere walk the corridors of the palace together, heading for the great hall. They pass servants and knights, all of whom bow and curtsey with broad smiles on their faces.

"I cannot get over it, Arthur," Gwen whispers. "They all seem as relieved about this as we are."

"That's because they are, Love. I told you when we were married: the people will love you because you are one of them. You have shown in this short time that you have not let the fact that you are now their queen change who you are, and they appreciate that. They love you for it, as I do."

"Well, not _exactly_ as you do…" she says, chuckling.

Arthur laughs, mind drifting back to yesterday. _I'm surprised she can even walk today,_ he thinks, remembering how much time he spent between her shapely legs the previous day.

"Are you… sore at all?" he asks, very quietly.

"A little. My one hip aches a touch. Was worth it, though," she whispers, blushing slightly.

"I thought you seemed a bit, um, tender that last time," he says, stopping to look down at her. "Sorry about that," he says, caressing her cheek. They had made love two more times that night, the last in the dead of night, Arthur drawing her from her slumber with kisses and soft caresses.

"It's all right, Arthur. If I didn't want to I wouldn't have let you, you know," she smirks at him.

The puzzled look on his face tells her that the possibility of her turning him down had not even occurred to him, and she laughs at him.

They continue on their way, meeting up with Merlin and Lord Roderick just outside the doors.

"Ah, Lord Roderick," Arthur says, striding forward, hand extended.

"King Arthur," Roderick says, "Good morning, Sire."

Guinevere hangs back, glancing at Merlin. _Bad idea, Gwen._ Merlin is making faces behind Roderick's back and she is forced to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep herself from laughing.

Arthur turns slightly, reaching back, hand out for Gwen. "Roderick, may I present my wife, Queen Guinevere of Camelot." Gwen takes his hand and steps forward.

"My Lord," she raises her hand.

"Your majesty, I am honored to meet you," he says, his voice insincere as he lifts her hand to his lips. _She is a surprisingly unique beauty, as the Lady said,_ he thinks, thoughts springing forth unbidden, based on lust alone. He notes her gentle almond-shaped brown eyes, lush, full lips, and of course the creamy light brown cleavage rising above the bodice of her gown. _And her hand is surprisingly soft for one who was a servant most of her life._

He bends low over her hand so that Arthur will not see that his lips do not actually make contact with it. Guinevere notices, though, and so does Merlin, and the two friends' eyes meet once again.

"Shall we?" Arthur asks, and Merlin opens the doors.

"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur says, as he walks in with Gwen on his arm.

They walk to the table, and Merlin strides forward to stand behind Gwen's chair and pull it out from the table. Arthur escorts her to her seat, and Roderick chooses a seat on the other side of the head chair, which clearly belongs to Arthur.

Roderick sits, and Merlin inhales sharply. Arthur turns his head and looks at the lord.

"Ah, Lord Roderick," he says levelly, "I do not know what the custom in your kingdom is, but here in Camelot, no one sits until the queen is seated. Even me." He waits, feigning patience, until Roderick sheepishly stands again.

Merlin can see that the lord is fuming inside. He can also practically hear the names Arthur is flinging at the man inside his head, and once again bites back a smile.

He holds Gwen's hand as she sits in her chair, and once Merlin slides her forward, Arthur and Roderick sit.

Maids from the kitchen come forward to place plates in front of them. Guinevere thanks them each by name, smiling, and they return her smile. Lord Roderick looks slightly ill.

Merlin pours water for them and hangs in the background to attend them. Really he is just hanging about to be nosy and keep an eye on Lord Dungball.

"So, Lord Roderick, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?" Arthur asks, stabbing a sausage.

_Do not look at Merlin. Do not look at Merlin,_ Gwen thinks, lifting a strawberry daintily to her lips.

"Nothing of grave import, Sire, I am merely passing through on my way west, to Cornwall." He shoves a large hunk of bread into his mouth, and Gwen decides that looking at Merlin was much safer than looking at the disgusting table manners of the lord. _Better to accidentally laugh than to accidentally vomit._

"I simply wished to stop as I had not yet sent condolences for the loss of your father," he continues, his mouth full, "and neither had I come to pay my respects to the new king of Camelot and congratulate him on his—" he belches loudly, "—nuptuals."

_He raised all that fuss for a bloody SOCIAL CALL?_ Merlin fumes. Gwen looks up at him and gives him a sympathetic smile. She takes a drink from her goblet and sneaks a sideways glance at Arthur.

_He looks like he's debating between laughing and tossing Lord Dungball out the window,_ she thinks. _I'd wager the window._

"Yes, well, thank you, Lord Roderick, I wish you safe travels on your journey and do send our warmest regards to King Mark."

_'Please leave after breakfast,'_ Merlin mentally translates with a smirk.

"I will certainly do so, my lord," Roderick says, and his eyes surreptitiously watch Gwen as she carefully slices a bite-sized piece of her sausage before spearing it with her fork and bringing it to her lips. _Humph. Her manners are impeccable. Someone must have spent time training her carefully._

"Have you any family, Lord Roderick?" Gwen asks. _I really don't care, but I should say something._

"No, my lady, I do not. I have not yet found a suitable lady of the court to make my wife and bring me heirs," he says.

"You have time yet, I'd wager," she says, managing a smile. _I would not wish you on any woman._ She also cannot help but notice the pointed way he said 'lady of the court.'

"You are kind, but as each year passes it looks more and more as if my wealth and lands will pass to my younger brother, Eldrick."

_Oo, his parents were creative, oh yes, very original,_ Merlin thinks, biting back a chuckle as he steps forward to refill Arthur's goblet. _I'll bet he has a brother called Frederick as well._

"Thank you, Merlin," Arthur says, noting the momentary look of surprise on the Lord's face when he hears the king thank his servant for the second time that morning. Merlin nods and steps to fill Gwen's goblet as well

"No thank you, Merlin, I'm fine," she tells him.

"I could do with a top-up, boy," Roderick says, waving his goblet at him.

_I bet I could show Merlin a thing or two about the proper use of a water jug as a weapon,_ Gwen thinks, smiling behind her goblet as Merlin takes his sweet time walking around the table to Lord Roderick.

"Well, at least it would stay within the family, then," Arthur says, back on the topic of Roderick's lack of heirs.

He shrugs. "Don't know how much good that would be; the boy's an imbecile."

Merlin actually laughs at this, which he deftly turns into a cough.

"All right there, Merlin?" Arthur asks, trying to hide his own amusement. _Lord Dungball referring to someone_ else _as an imbecile? His brother must barely be sentient._

"Yes, Sire," _cough,_ "Thank you. I think… a," _cough, cough,_ "fly flew in my mouth or something." Merlin pounds his chest dramatically. "Ahem. I'm okay now. Sorry."

"Quite all right. Mm," Arthur downs the rest of his goblet wipes his mouth with his napkin. "Terribly sorry, Lord Roderick, but I must attend to the training of my knights."

Gwen shoots him a look. _Don't you dare leave me alone with him!_

"Merlin will send to the stables for your horses so you may continue on your way before the heat of the day sets in," he finishes.

"Actually, Sire, might I accompany you? Seeing the knights of Camelot in training is a rare opportunity, indeed," Lord Roderick asks.

_Don't do it, Arthur,_ Merlin thinks. He takes a deep breath, uneasy.

"No harm in that, I guess," Arthur replies. Gwen can tell he's not exactly thrilled by the proposition, but he can hardly refuse such a simple request.

"I must visit the kitchens to review the menus for the week anyway, my lord," Gwen says, and Merlin walks around to pull her chair out, looking sideways at Lord Roderick to make sure he behaves this time.

Merlin pulls Gwen's chair out, and Arthur stands, holding his hand out for her. Roderick decides it's probably safe for him to stand as well.

Gwen smiles warmly at Merlin, then turns her attention to Arthur. He takes her other hand in his.

"I won't be long, it's just training. We can have lunch together. Hopefully alone," he says quietly to her. Merlin decides to be extra noisy clearing the plates so that Lord Roderick cannot eavesdrop.

"I would love that," she says, smiling up at him.

He releases one of her hands to run a finger along her cheek softly before bending to kiss her.

"Love you. See you later," he tells her. He squeezes her hand gently before turning back to the lord.

The two men head for the door, and Arthur calls back over his shoulder, "Merlin, are you coming?"

"Yeah," he calls, but Gwen detains him.

"He'll be along in a few minutes, Arthur," she says, and Arthur waves his hand, acknowledging her words.

_This 'king' is being led around by his wife and his servant,_ Lord Roderick thinks disdainfully. _I expected better from the son of Uther Pendragon._


	13. Chapter 13

"Merlin, are you all right?" Gwen asks, knowing the answer.

"Oh my God, Gwen, did you hear him?" Merlin is raving, voice raised, arms waving. "The man was a complete… _ass_ about not getting to see Arthur yesterday, and then he claims that the only reason he's here is to _socialize?_"

Gwen shakes her head, not wanting to laugh at Merlin. _But he's just so funny when he's like this._

"The sooner he's out of here the better," he says.

"Yes, he is a complete toad, as Arthur said. Did you see how he was watching me? It was like he was expecting me to eat with my hand or chew with my mouth open, something crass. Honestly. Just because I wasn't born a noble does not mean I don't have table manners."

"Heh. Table manners that I noticed that he was pretty much devoid of himself," Merlin laughs, but there really isn't any humor in the laughter. "Gwen…" he says, his face clouding.

"What is it, Merlin?"

"I don't think we can trust Lord Roderick. I fear he is… not what he appears."

"What do you mean?"

"He's up to something."

Gwen gives him a quizzical look.

"I don't have time to go into it right now, but I'll tell both of you as soon as I can. I really need to go." He starts to walk away.

"Arthur won't be mad if you're a few minutes longer."

"It's not Arthur I'm worried about. I want to keep my eye on Lord Dungball."

"Okay, tell us when you bring lunch. Arthur and I wish to dine in our chambers. Hopefully Dungball will be gone by then."

Merlin laughs, enjoying hearing her call Roderick 'Dungball.'

xXx

Gwen walks toward the kitchens, Merlin's warning running through her brain. _I wonder what he knows? What happened yesterday while Arthur and I were sequestered away in our own little world?_

She is so deep in her thoughts, walking the empty corridors, that she doesn't notice a figure sidling up.

"Hello, what have we here?"

"Oh!" Gwen starts, snapped out of her puzzlement. There is a strange man dressed all in brown, one she has never seen before, standing very close to her. Uncomfortably close. "I'm sorry, are you new here? I don't believe I've met you," she stammers, trying to back away, only to find a wall hindering her.

"Just a visitor, arrived yesterday. How I missed _you_ in my wanderings I'll never know," he says, his voice oily. He steps closer still.

"Yes, well… um… please, will you step back?" she asks. _Where the hell are the guards?_

"No, I think I rather like standing this close." He leans in and inhales deeply. Guinevere cringes; this is not at all like Arthur's sweet taking in of her scent because he loves her. This is unnerving; creepy. Dirty. Wrong.

"Ahhhhh…" he says, and licks his lips.

_My dagger._ Gwen slides her right hand along her waist, across to her left side where the dagger is resting and eases it out of its sheath.

"Step back or you will no longer be able to truly call yourself a man," she says, jabbing the tip of her dagger into him, very low on his stomach, just enough so he can feel it.

He jumps back, but only just a little. "Bitch! You don't have the nerve!" he spits at her.

"No?" she pokes again, harder, and he steps further back, hissing.

"Who do you think you are, girl?"

"Queen Guinevere of Camelot, actually. Who do you think _you_ are, exactly?"

"Um… ah…" he backs further away.

"Guards!"

xXx

"…so even though we currently are experiencing a period of relative quiet, there is no call to be lax. This is the time to sharpen our skills, improve. Learn new…" Merlin approaches just as Arthur's voice trails off. He watches as the king's eyes survey his assembled men.

"Where the hell is Gwaine?"

There is a general shuffling of feet and shaking of heads as knights mutter amongst themselves.

"We do not know, Sire," Leon speaks up.

"Not on patrol this morning?" Arthur asks.

"No. He's paired with me this rotation, in fact."

"Merlin!" he shouts, turning to see Merlin standing right behind him.

"Yes, Sire?" Merlin says calmly.

"Find Gwaine. Check the taverns."

"That won't be necessary," Gwaine's voice calls back.

Arthur turns. "You'd better have a good excuse."

"I do. I've brought new recruits." Behind Gwaine are three strapping young men, two of whom look identical. "This is Drake, Winston, and Winthrop."

"Hmm," Arthur ponders, striding forward. "You're Sherrod's sons, are you not?"

They nod.

Lord Roderick watches this all with interest. _Who are these boys? They certainly aren't nobles. And yet Arthur is not dismissing them._

"None of you are interested in continuing your father's farm?"

_Farmers. Bah!_ the lord scoffs.

"We have another brother that is content to do this, my lord. We aspire to greater things, if we might."

"You _might,_" Arthur hints, "if you survive."

Merlin grins. Roderick is aghast.

"Does that mean…?" the spokesman of the group asks.

"Let's see what you have to offer. Come on."

_He's giving them a chance? These_ peasants? _This is… this is blasphemy!_

Merlin is watching Lord Roderick with interest. _He looks like he is going to split in two, he is so furious. Narrow-minded oaf._

The men form an impromptu circle around Arthur, who draws his sword.

"Who would like to go first? Drake, I believe you are the eldest, fancy a go?" Arthur asks.

Roderick takes this opportunity to wander amongst the various types of weaponry stacked around, resting on racks or piled neatly on the ground. Merlin watches him carefully.

"It would be an honor, my lord," Drake steps forward. He is slightly taller than Arthur, but not as tall as Leon or Percival. Arthur contemplates his sword, then sheaths it again.

He sizes up the lad and turns. "Gwaine, you brought him. You're up," Arthur grins. "Drake, choose your weapon."

Drake walks to the assembled weapons, looking for just the right item to showcase his skill. With a smile, he picks up a large mace and gives it an experimental swing. "Nice," he mutters, and walks back to the circle.

"Gwaine?" Arthur asks.

"I'm good, thanks," he says, drawing his sword.

"As it pleases you," the king shrugs and steps to the side.

Drake moves first, swinging overhand. Gwaine dodges easily.

"Predictable," he taunts.

Gwaine thrusts with his sword, almost making contact, but Drake spins out of the way, quite gracefully, in fact.

Lord Roderick snorts. _Probably a poof,_ he thinks derisively, fingering a shield idly.

Merlin points his eyes in the direction of the rack of shields and makes them tumble like dominoes from the rack, starting with the one Roderick touched.

Arthur looks in the direction of the ruckus and rolls his eyes before returning his attention to the fight.

Drake makes a low swing at Gwaine's legs, which he hops.

"Amateur," he grins, but just then Drake's mace makes solid contact with Gwaine's shield, making him stagger back a few steps.

"Well done," he commends as he regains his balance. He swishes his sword at a blinding speed, into the chain of the mace. The ball swings around the blade and Gwaine pulls sharply back on it, disarming Drake.

The knights laugh and cheer for Gwaine, who claps Drake on the shoulder in a congratulatory fashion.

Arthur strides forward again, applauding. "Well done, indeed, Drake. Now let's see how your brothers fare." He turns to the twins. "Okay, Pete and Re-Pete: who's next?"

xXx

"I didn't know who she was, I swear!" Bertrand protests as two guards drag him bodily to the stocks.

"And that is the _only_ reason you have not been separated from your head," one guard says. "You are actually a very fortunate man."

"Fortunate?"

"Oh, yeah," the second guard agrees. "If the king had intercepted you, he'd've run you through without a second thought. Your fortune is courtesy of our Queen. She is much more forgiving than King Arthur."

Bertrand is shoved down into the stocks, which are closed unceremoniously over the back of his neck and his wrists. As the first guard secures the lock, a boy approaches the second.

"What did he do, my lord?"

The guard looks down with a smile. "He was… unkind to Queen Guinevere."

The boy's eyes widen. "No!"

The guard nods, and the boy runs away, calling, "Mum! Mum! You'll never guess!"

The second guard looks at the first guard as a small crowd begins to gather. Several have heard what he told the boy, and the muttering has started. _Nothing like a little public humiliation and gossip to draw a crowd,_ he thinks. He looks at his partner and says, "Perhaps our queen isn't as forgiving as we think."

The first guard laughs, as the boy comes running back with a basket of spoiled produce. "She does have a certain _way_ about her, doesn't she?" he agrees as he walks to his companion, ready to head back to the palace.

"Wait!" Bertrand calls.

"What is it, pig?"

"How long do I have to stay here?"

"The queen has declared that you are to stay there until your master comes to retrieve you. At that time you are both to leave Camelot and _you_ are henceforth banished from this kingdom."

"But my master doesn't even know I'm here!" he whines.

"Not our problem," the second guard answers.

"You should have thought of that before you started menacing beautiful ladies. _Regardless_ of who they are," the first one agrees, and they turn to leave.

Behind them they hear the unmistakable leafy _splat_ of a rotten head of lettuce making contact with a human skull.

xXx

"Which one are you?" Elyan asks, looking up at his opponent. Elyan is not very tall, and the twin is a full head taller.

"Winston," he says. "And you're the queen's brother," he adds, recognizing him.

"I am," he says. _I hope,_ he adds mentally.

Winston has chosen a battleaxe as his weapon, and, unlike Gwaine, Elyan has followed suit.

"Enough flirting, let's go!" Gwaine calls, and several knights laugh.

As Winston charges and Elyan dodges, Lord Roderick slinks and Merlin observes.

_What is he looking for? Is he just… taking a weapons inventory? Taking measure of the knights' skills, looking for weaknesses?_ He dismisses this last. _He's not bright enough for that. And from the looks of him, he hasn't picked up anything sharper than a table knife in many years._

Elyan's axe slashes down into Winston's shield, which he lifts just in time, ducking. He then sweeps his foot around, tripping Elyan and the knight falls. Winston drops his axe to give him a hand up as the knights cheer again.

Arthur strides forward, nodding his approval. "Not bad, not bad. A little rough, but there is definite potential there. Elyan, all right?" he asks.

"Yes, Sire," he says, nodding. The two men lock eyes for a brief moment, each understanding the other, each knowing that Arthur is asking about more than just the trial fight.

"Winthrop, saved the best for last, I hope?" Arthur turns to the other twin. He angles his head as he sees the lad is carrying a pitchfork.

"Brought my own, if you don't mind, Sire," Winthrop grins.

"Interesting," Arthur's eyebrows rise. "And truly fit for our own weapons expert." He turns, searching for the face he is seeking. "Leon!" he shouts, and the knights holler and whistle their approval.

"A pitchfork, really?" Leon complains.

"It's nothing more than a quarter staff, my lord. With one really dangerous end," Winthrop defends his choice of weaponry, twirling it in his hands idly.

"See? Don't be such a snob," Arthur laughs. "I like the lad's inventiveness. Conventional weapons may not always be available," he comments, ever giving instruction, his face thoughtful.

Leon grumbles over to the racks and chooses a long spear, figuring that is close enough.

As soon as he is within range, Winthrop attacks, throwing Leon off guard, and he jumps out of the way.

"Whoa, no fair!"

Leon sweeps his spear at knee-level, and Winthrop jumps just in the nick of time.

Merlin spies Roderick poking around the maces and other various chained weapons, and with a whispered word, a length of chain wraps itself around the lord's boot.

Winthrop thrusts his pitchfork perpendicular to Leon's spear and nabs it in the tines. He tosses the spear a distance away with a grin. The knights cheer and Leon scowls. Winthrop indicates that Leon should retrieve the spear, which he does, muttering "Show-off," under his breath.

Spear back in hand, he parries as the pitchfork comes his way again and dodges to one side. Quick as lightning, he thrusts the spear forward and rotates it, spinning the pitchfork out of Winston's grasp. The fork lands in the ground on its tines, and Leon sweeps the spear again, this time making contact with the backs of Winthrop's knees and the boy falls.

More cheering, and Arthur walks forward as Leon gives Winthrop a hand up and pats him on the back.

"Don't like your 'weapon,' but you wield it well," he compliments the young man.

"I think the three of you will make fine recruits," Arthur declares as Drake and Winston rejoin him in the center.

"Thank you, Sire," Drake says. He seems like he has something else on his mind.

"Yes? Speak your mind, please," Arthur says.

"We have something we'd like to show you, my lord. Well, my brothers do," Drake says, nodding at them.

"What is it?" Arthur is intrigued.

"We would like to show you our skills…" Winston says.

"…fighting together, my lord," Winthrop finishes.

"Both of you, fighting as a pair? What's unique about that?" Arthur asks.

"We do not need to, um, communicate, my lord," Winston says carefully.

Arthur's eyebrows rise.

"I assure you, it's not magic, my lord. We have no magic of any kind," Winthrop says hastily. "It's just that… as twins, we are…"

"…closer than most. We just always know what the other is up to," Winston picks up.

"It's true, my lord. They used to cause all sorts of trouble that way," he laughs.

"Not magic," Arthur looks at them levelly.

"No, sire."

The king hesitates, thinking.

"My lord, would we be telling you all this if it _were_ magic?" Drake asks.

"Good point. Show me," he says, drawing his sword.

Swords and shields are tossed to the twins and the battle begins, two against one.

The twins stand side by side, facing Arthur.

"Hmm, left handed even, eh Winthrop? That's certainly convenient," Arthur says, noting that this allows each man to hold a sword on the outside of him, so that they are protected on both sides.

Roderick steps forward, interested in seeing this match-up. It is Arthur, after all, that he has hung around to see. He takes a step and falls on his face in the dirt.

"Bloody hell!" he curses, kicking his foot trying to free it.

Merlin turns away so the lord doesn't see him laughing.

The twins move in concert, as if they are one being. Arthur watches them carefully, looking for an opening, a weakness, something he can use to defeat them. His powers of observation are part of the reason he is so successful in the arena and the battlefield.

Winston – or Winthrop – lunges first, and Arthur parries easily while he dodges the other twin's thrust. They spin and attack again, and one makes small contact with the king's shield, but not much more.

Twin One dodges; Twin Two slashes. Arthur sweeps his sword, catching one shield but not the other. He draws back, collecting his thoughts.

_Fighting two swords… two swords… Two. Swords. That's it._ Arthur shakes the shield from his left arm, dropping it to the ground. He spins and grabs a sword from the sheath of the nearest knight in his left hand.

"Thanks."

He turns back to the twins, a devilish grin splitting his face as he swishes both swords in the air in front of him. "Now we're even," he says, and attacks.

He fights each man with a hand, his left just as adept with a sword as his right. The twins keep up, but Arthur is formidable, seeming to anticipate their every move. They soon find themselves more on the defensive than offensive.

Roderick pulls his foot forcefully, and it comes free of the chain. And the boot. With another curse, he reaches forward to unwind the chain from around his boot before yanking it back on. He stands just in time to see Arthur disarm the twins almost simultaneously. _Bugger it all to hell,_ Roderick thinks, fuming.

The knights go wild, cheering loudly, and Arthur bows. When he straightens out, he looks up and sees Guinevere watching him from a high window, and he tosses Bedivere's sword back to him so he has a free hand with which to blow her a kiss. He is rewarded with a smile from his queen before she throws one back to him. The knights notice the direction of Arthur's gaze and see their queen watching from above. She applauds them and they cheer for her, prompting her to throw them all kisses, laughing merrily, before waving warmly at them and disappearing from the window.

"All right, if I may regain your attention now that my wife is no longer distracting you all?"

The knights reassemble, closing the circle around Arthur and the three brothers. "Very good, very good," Arthur says to the twins. "That skill will come in _very_ handy on the battlefield indeed. I'd actually be very interested in seeing he two of you pitted against one another."

"It goes on _forever,_ my lord, trust me," Drake laughs.

Arthur joins his laughter and says, "All right, then. Come back tomorrow morning, ready for training in earnest."

The knights cheer again and close in on the three farmer's sons, congratulating them.

"May we stay yet this morning, my lord?" Drake asks once the uproar has quieted some.

"You may go to the armory and get fitted with some proper mail this morning," he instructs them, patting Winthrop on the shoulder.

"Yes, sire," Drake nods, smiling as he and his brothers make their exit.

Arthur goes to the water barrel for a drink and sees two guards approaching. They are walking towards Lord Roderick.

He drinks, watching. _What's going on?_ he wonders. He catches Merlin's eye and nods in Roderick's direction. Merlin strides over and speaks briefly with the guards. He doesn't look very happy with what he is told, and then he leaves with a furious-looking Roderick and the two guards.

Arthur puzzles over this scene for a moment, then turns back to his knights. "All right, pair off. Sparring practice; mixed weaponry…"


	14. Chapter 14

Merlin climbs the stairs, looking for Gwen. He's just left Lord Roderick at the stocks to deal with his servant and has made certain that the stable hands have their horses and bags waiting for them, outside the castle gates.

_Arthur is going to lose it._

He finds Gwen walking in the corridor, heading for the royal chambers.

"Gwen!" he calls.

"Merlin, Arthur dismissed you early?" Gwen says, stopping so he can catch her up.

"Not exactly. What happened?" he asks, his face full of concern.

"What happened with what?"

"With you. And Bertrand."

"Bertrand?"

"Lord Dungball's servant. You know, bland guy, dressed all in brown, face like a boiled turnip?"

"Oh. _Him._" She makes a face. "There was a… small misunderstanding."

"What kind of 'misunderstanding?'" he asks, eyes narrowing.

"He, um, made advances. He didn't know who I was, obviously."

"Arthur's going to be furious."

"I handled it," she says, taking Merlin's arm as they begin walking again. "However…"

"What's that?"

"Would you send one of the maids up after lunch? I think I would very much like a bath this afternoon."

Merlin laughs, understanding her implication. "Of course."

They stop outside the doors. "Arthur should be up shortly," he says. "I'll be up in a bit with your lunches."

"Merlin," she calls him back. "Bring lunch for yourself as well. If you've got news for us about Lord Roderick, you may as well join us instead of hovering while we eat."

"You're sure?" he says, uncomfortable. "Arthur…"

"…will deal with it," she interrupts him with a chuckle.

"I don't know…"

"If you don't bring enough for three, I'll just give you half of my lunch, since I never finish it anyway," she threatens.

Merlin knows that Arthur would be even less pleased by that, and surrenders. "All right, all right, no need to play dirty!"

xXx

"So you've got some new recruits, then?" Gwen says as Arthur walks into their chambers. She crosses to him and leans up to kiss him.

"Yes, farm lads, but skilled," he says, one arm around her waist, holding her close. He nuzzles her nose with his own, smiling. "You were watching. I liked that."

"You were very good, my lord," she kisses him softly.

"Was my lady impressed?"

"Indeed."

"How impressed?" he smirks wickedly at her, his eyes twinkling.

She lifts up on tiptoe and kisses him fully, her fingers tangling in his sweat-damp hair, pulling his head down to her. She opens her mouth under his, her tongue darting coyly in to tease a bit.

Arthur groans in the back of his throat and drops the gloves he had clutched in the hand not holding Guinevere, bringing this hand around to cradle the back of her neck as he leans further into her, his own tongue taking command, hungry for her.

There is a knock at the door, which Arthur ignores, holding Gwen tighter as she tries in vain to break the kiss.

"Arthur…" she manages.

"It's just Merlin with our lunch," he mutters against her lips, diving back in.

She gives in for a few more seconds, then summons her will and breaks away again.

"Exactly," she says, managing to pull away enough to stand upright again and gently shove Arthur back. He pouts; she laughs.

"Come in, Merlin," Gwen calls.

As Merlin enters, she turns to Arthur. "Arthur, Merlin will be joining us for lunch."

"What? Guinevere, I said…" he begins to protest, and she stops him with another small kiss.

"I know, Love. Merlin has news for us. I suggested he may as well dine with us so we wouldn't have to crane our necks looking up at him while we eat."

Merlin sets the places, smirking knowingly at Gwen's choice of words. _She knows just what to say._

Arthur sighs, bending to pick up his dropped gloves. "Very well." He removes his sword belt and tosses it and the gloves on a side table.

They sit, and Merlin is noticeably uncomfortable sitting at the table with them. They are his closest friends, but he is still their servant and doesn't truly belong there.

"Relax, Merlin," Gwen says.

"Yes, Merlin. Now. Guinevere says you have news, but first: what happened to Lord Dungball? I notice he's no longer here. Why did the guards come for him?"

Merlin looks at Gwen, who nods. "Well, my lord, his servant got into a spot of trouble this morning."

"What kind of trouble?" Arthur asks, taking a long draw from his goblet.

"Let's just say he made a grave mistake," Merlin attempts.

"Merlin." Arthur sets his goblet down with a _clunk,_ and glares at his servant.

"Arthur, he behaved in an inappropriate manner. Towards me," Gwen decides to jump in, thinking that he may take the news better coming from her.

"_What?_" he shouts, turning toward her. "I'll kill him. What did he do, _exactly?_ Are you hurt? He is a _dead_ man."

"Arthur, love, I'm fine. I was a bit unnerved, but only that. He didn't actually _do_ anything. He only… _sniffed_ me." She shudders a little. "I stopped him before he was able to do anything more."

"He sniffed you?" Merlin asks, making a slightly disgusted face.

"I'm still going to kill him," he says, pushing his chair back to stand. "They can't have gotten far…"

"Arthur," Gwen puts her hand on his arm. "Sit."

Much to Merlin's surprise, he obeys. But he doesn't look happy about it.

"I took care of the situation, Arthur. He's gone and he's not coming back."

"That's all? Just banishment?"

"No, of course not. He spent the morning in the stocks. The ones in the lower town."

"The ones in the lower town?" he asks, his eyebrows going up. _Of course. The exact area where she's from; where I'm sure the largest portion of yesterday's tokens came from. Clever._

"That's why the guards came, Arthur. Lord Roderick didn't know Bertrand was in the stocks. He didn't even know that Bertrand was back in Camelot, in fact," Merlin says.

"Back in Camelot?" Arthur is confused now.

"I'll get to that in a minute," Merlin says, taking a bite of his food. "Gwen, how did you stop Bertrand, anyway?"

"Let's just say I got to use one of my gifts," she says, patting her little dagger.

"You stabbed him?" Arthur's eyebrows fly up.

"Just a little bit," she smirks.

"A little bit?"

"Twice."

Arthur stares.

"Where?" Merlin asks. "He didn't seem injured. Not that it would have been easy to tell under the layer of rotten food. He was filthy," he chuckles.

"That really was a stroke of genius, Guinevere, putting him there, _now._" Arthur manages a small smile.

"Thank you."

"So: where?" Merlin prods, very curious.

Gwen blushes slightly. "In the… stomach. Low. Very low," she says, hiding behind her goblet.

Arthur raises an eyebrow at her.

"All right, I jabbed him just enough so he knew I was armed and threatened to cut off his manhood," she says, leaning back in her chair, exasperated. "And then I called for the guards."

Merlin laughs and Arthur stares again. Slowly a smile spreads across his face. "That's my girl," he nods, placing his hand over hers. _Still going to kill him, though._

Gwen heaves a sigh, relieved that Arthur approves of her actions. She finally starts eating.

"So Merlin. What was that about Roderick's servant coming _back_ to Camelot?"

"I'll have to back up some, actually. Yesterday when I brought his dinner, I noticed something odd…"

Merlin tells them about the letter, relaying some of the information it contained.

"But Merlin, surely he could have heard the news of Guinevere's innocence from anyone yesterday. The word did travel rather quickly," he says, motioning to the flowers scattered around the room.

"But it's not just that, Arthur. He specifically mentioned the bracelet. No one in the castle yet knows that a bracelet is involved other than Gaius, Elyan, and us. And Roderick didn't leave the grounds."

"Can you be certain of that?"

Merlin thinks, frowning. "No. I wasn't with him the entire time. But there's more."

"Go on."

"He wrote, 'They do not know if you yet live, and if so, where you are hiding.' The 'Lady' to which he is writing can only be Morgana."

Arthur's face clouds as he thinks. Merlin glances at Gwen. She seems deep in thought, but looks a bit haunted as well.

"That still is not very incriminating. That's pretty much how everyone in Camelot feels. Though I do agree that he is probably writing Morgana," he scowls.

Merlin sighs and takes a deep breath. "There is more."

"Merlin, how on earth did you get to read all this without him seeing?"

"I spilled wine on his trousers and looked while he was changing," Merlin says matter-of-factly, taking a drink from his goblet.

"Continue," Arthur says, knowing his servant sometimes uses his clumsiness to an advantage.

"It is… delicate, Sire. Please know I am just relaying what I read," Merlin says, wincing. "It involves Gwen."

"What is it?" she whispers.

He takes another deep breath and squeezes his eyes closed. "He wrote, 'It is possible that the king's wench may be with child.'"

"He wrote _what?_" Arthur says quietly. Somehow the fact that he is not shouting is all the more chilling.

"Please don't make me say it again," Merlin begs.

"'The king's _wench?_'" Arthur quotes the words between clenched teeth.

"Someone was listening at our door," Gwen whispers, staring at nothing. She bites her lip.

"What?"

"What?"

She looks at Arthur. "Yesterday. You and I had a conversation about Morgana. I mentioned that we didn't know if she was even alive. We talked about a baby, that you hoped that I was not yet with child because of the stress of yesterday morning."

Merlin bends his head over his plate, slightly uncomfortable.

"Someone must have been listening at our door and only heard snatches of the conversation," she says, her face growing hot. She feels humiliated by this. Violated. _What else did he hear?_

"Bertrand," Merlin says. "I found him wandering the corridors not far from your chambers yesterday afternoon."

"_Now_ may I go kill him?" Arthur asks, furious.

"There is one more item." Merlin sighs.

"I don't think I can take any more," Gwen says, biting her lip.

"He knew about the letter to Queen Annis."

"No one knew about that letter. Just the three of us," Arthur says.

"Exactly," Merlin says, "and this morning Bertrand was nowhere to be found and I saw no sign of that letter, either. I did see a figure riding away from the castle this morning. It might have been him; he was pretty far away, though, I can't say for certain who it was." _I know it was him, but I cannot give away how I know,_ he thinks mournfully.

Arthur pounds his fist on the table and suddenly stands. "Why didn't I have guards outside the door? Why didn't _you_ let me know he was here yesterday?" He wheels on Merlin.

"You told me not to disturb you! How was I to know that he was Morgana's latest… pawn?" Merlin rises from his chair and shouts back, refusing to take the blame. _Don't you act the wounded animal on me now, Arthur. I'm not backing down from your claws._

"Well if you had told me he was here we could have kept a closer eye on him!" Arthur stalks

"Just this morning you were commending me on the good job I did looking after him and leaving you undisturbed! Don't take your anger with Roderick out on me, _Sire,_ I've done nothing wrong here!" Merlin fires back, and the two friends stand and regard each other.

"Stop it, both of you!" Gwen says sharply, standing and walking between them. She puts her hands out, one on each man's chest, and shoves, gently but firmly, placing some distance between them.

"It's no one's fault." She faces them, her face stern. "Instead of attacking each other, you should be thinking about what to do _next._ We know what he knows, but he doesn't know this."

"True," Merlin agrees, the first to cool down. "Still, we must keep on our toes, because now we know that Morgana somehow survived and is clearly gathering both information and allies. Again."

"Right," Gwen says. "Arthur?" she looks to her husband, still silent and scowling.

"We will double the guard," he says levelly, looking out the window. "All visitors will be escorted at all times. Guards will be posted outside our doors…"

Gwen's eyes shoot to him.

"Okay, not _right_ outside the doors, but at the each end of the corridor leading to our doors. And we will send a search party west to try and catch up Lord Dungball and his toad I want them brought back so that they can be executed. Horribly."

"Ar—" Merlin starts, but Gwen holds up her hand, stilling him.

There is a sharp knock on the door. "Sire?" Leon's voice from the other side.

Gwen walks over and opens the door.

"Is everything all right, my lady? We heard shouting." Leon asks. Elyan is with him.

"Yes, just a little misunderstanding, that's all," Gwen says, and Leon notices Arthur and Merlin looking rather guilty standing there. He looks around and sees no one else in the room, and decides it must be all right, knowing that the two of them fight like brothers sometimes.

"Very well. Sorry to disturb you, your majesties."

"Leon," Arthur says.

"Sire?"

"A word, please."

Leon steps in to receive the latest instructions from Arthur, leaving Gwen face to face with Elyan.

"Hi, Gwen."

"Hello."

"I…"

"I heard what you did."

"You… you did?"

"Very clever, letting Wilhelmina overhear like that."

"Thanks." He looks at his feet.

"Um… Elyan?"

"Yes?" he raises his head hopefully.

"Did you say anything _specifically_ about the bracelet?"

"What?" he was hoping for forgiveness, not a question. "Well, Edgar knows, of course. I don't know if his wife heard anything about the bracelet or not. Or if Edgar said anything to her. I know that it was not one of the things I intentionally said extra loud…" he smiles.

"Hmm."

"Why?"

"We're trying to sort some things out. It seems… it seems that Lord Roderick and his servant were doing some snooping, and we're just trying to put the pieces together. He knew about the bracelet. We just don't know how exactly, but we suspect he's working for Morgana."

"She's alive?"

"Apparently so."

The siblings stand awkwardly for a moment, neither knowing what to say next.

"What's that?" Gwen asks.

"The bracelet. Well, what's left of it after I melted it."

"You… you _kept_ it?"

"Yes. As a reminder."

"Not because it is silver?" she asks, raising her eyebrows at him.

"No. Honest, no. If I cared about its monetary value at all, I would have sold it to a jeweler. But it is not intended to be an adornment."

"It _is_ ugly," she says, allowing a small smile.

He smiles weakly back. "I needed something to remind me to be a better brother to you. This seemed appropriate."

She reaches out and lifts it, weighing it in her palm before dropping it again, watching as it lands against his chest.

"I love you, Gwen, please remember that. Even if I don't show it very much. Or very well."

"Thank you, Elyan," she says, but does not return the sentiment. _Not ready yet._

Leon clears his throat politely.

Gwen turns and smiles at the tall knight. "Thank you, Leon, for the dagger."

"You are most welcome, my lady. I am only sorry that you had need of it so soon," he says, frowning slightly.

"No, Leon, do not be sorry," she says, placing her hand on his arm. "Be thankful, proud, that you gave it to me at the right time. I am forever grateful to you, Sir Knight, and I shall wear it always."

"Thank you, my lady, that was my intention."

Gwen smiles again at him and lifts up to bestow a kiss on his cheek. "You're going to have to meet me halfway, here, Leon," she says when she can't reach him.

Chuckling, he bends his head, allowing her to kiss his cheek. Blushing slightly, he turns to Elyan as Gwen walks back into the room.

"We've got work to do, Elyan," they hear Leon say as he closes the door behind him.

xXx

Guinevere closes her eyes and sighs, letting the warm water soak into her pores, relaxing her frazzled muscles. The scent of the lavender oil in the water wafts up to her nose, carried on the steam rising from the water, and she takes a deep breath before sighing heavily.

"My lady, is everything all right?"

"Yes, Daisy. And no. It's been a very confusing day."

"None of my business, I'm sure," she says meekly. Gwen is fairly certain that the young maid knows almost all of what has been going on.

"At least that horrible man and his even more horrible servant are gone now," Gwen says, swishing her hands idly in the water.

Having lived most of her life bathing by using a basin and a cloth, shivering most of the time, Guinevere has discovered that she loves the decadence of a true bathtub. She savors every moment steeping herself in scented water, so hot that her tawny skin comes out slightly pink when she's done, fingers and toes wrinkled like raisins. It is almost her favorite thing about being queen. Almost.

"Yes, my lady. He was… rather unpleasant," the girl bravely ventures.

"Oh, Daisy, you do not need to coat your words with honey for me. Speak your mind," Gwen says, opening her eyes and raising her head from its resting place on the edge of the tub.

"He was horrid. Rude. Vile, even. Merlin told me that he asked for a 'young, pretty maid' to go to his chambers to retrieve a pair of soiled trousers to be cleaned. Then he told me that he sent Corliss," she smiles sheepishly.

"Corliss? That girl is nearly as big as Percival!" Gwen laughs. "She's a wonderful girl, and pretty, but my goodness, she's built like a knight!"

Daisy allows herself a giggle. "Corliss is my best friend, my lady, but you are absolutely right. She's a very… robust girl."

"Well, Lord Roderick did ask for young and pretty. Corliss is definitely both those things," Gwen smiles.

"And then some, my lady," Daisy smiles back at her.

"So what happened? I can see you want to tell me," Gwen prompts, holding her hand out for the soap and cloth. "Thank you."

"Apparently she knocked and the lord asked who was disturbing him. She calls to him that Merlin has sent her to retrieve his trousers to bring them to the laundry, and the door opened immediately. Corliss said that his servant nearly had to pick his master's jaw up from the floor. The lord only stood as high as her shoulder, my lady."

"I'm sure he was quite disappointed that he was not presented with someone he could bully or, perish the thought, overpower," Gwen says grimly.

"Indeed, my lady. So then the servant fetches the trousers and flings them at poor Corliss. She caught them, of course and put them in her basket. They slammed the door in her face then."

"How terribly rude. But I am not surprised." Gwen leans forward and Daisy steps over to run the cloth on the queen's back for her.

"She said…" Daisy hesitates.

"What?"

"I should not, my lady. It is gossip."

"But now I'm too curious. Tell me."

She hesitates. "Corliss said that Lord Roderick's trousers smelled. Bad. Like a stable that hadn't been cleaned recently."

Guinevere laughs, and Daisy is taken by surprise.

"My lady!"

"Okay, I'll trade a secret for a secret."

"No, that's really all right, you don't have to…" Daisy protests.

"Arthur and Merlin and I have been referring to Lord Roderick as 'Lord Dungball' all day."

Now it is Daisy's turn to laugh, covering her mouth with her hands, as shocked as she is amused.

"More hot, my lady?" she asks once she recovers.

Gwen sits back, swishing the water again. "A bit, yes. I won't be much longer."


	15. Chapter 15

Arthur sweeps back into the royal chambers, speaking as he does so. "Well, we've got that all worked out. The extra stations are set and the new rotation is all worked out. Leon is a genius at that, really. And I also dispatched a small search party west to track Lord Dungba…" he trails off when he hears a watery noise from the sleeping quarters. He drops his gloves and sword belt on the table and steps quietly over to investigate. He sees Daisy kneeling behind Guinevere, squeezing water from her wet hair with a towel, drying it as it hangs over the edge of the tub.

"Hello, Arthur," Gwen says. Her eyes are closed. Daisy glances at him, and blushes as he walks toward them.

"Um…" she stammers, and Gwen opens her eyes and angles her head in Arthur's direction. The look in his eyes is one that makes Daisy both warm and uncomfortable, though she doesn't fully understand it. Gwen understands it perfectly.

"Thank you, Daisy, you may go," she says quietly.

"Thank you, my lady," she says hurriedly and practically sprints from the room.

Arthur walks back to the door, locking it after the girl.

When he returns to the bath, his mail and boots are off and the rest of his clothing is on the way. He is leaving a trail of garments in his wake.

He reaches the side of the tub and crouches beside Guinevere, leaning over to kiss her softly, resting his hand on the side of her neck.

He pulls away and looks at her. She smiles, then furrows her brow.

"What?"

"I take it you are planning on joining me in this tub?" she asks.

"That was the idea," he says, leaning over to kiss her neck.

"Good," she says, rather matter-of-factly. He pulls back again to look at her.

"Why?" he asks, puzzled by her tone. _Here I thought I was being romantic, and she sounds as though she thinks I need..._ "Oh." He lifts his arm, turns his head and sniffs. "_Oh._"

Gwen stifles a laugh as he drops his trousers and climbs in the tub. She reaches down for a comb and twists her damp hair up and secures it so it won't fall in the water again.

"You _have_ been training all morning with the knights, my love," she says, pulling him to her so he is leaning back against her chest, his head on her shoulder.

"True. If I hadn't been so distracted at the unexpected sight of you in the tub, I probably would have thought to have Merlin draw me my own bath," he chuckles. "But this way is much more fun," he adds, sliding his hands along her thighs on either side of him, soft and wet. He sighs, comfortable and content cradled against his wife in a pool of warm water.

Gwen kisses his ear and her hands rub his shoulders a bit. "So when are you going to talk with him?" she finally asks.

"Talk with whom?" He opens his eyes and turns slightly, looking at her.

"Merlin."

"What about?"

She sighs. "About not being your servant anymore," she says, poking him in the back of his head with her finger, while mentally adding, _Clotpole._

"Oh. That. I'm not sure yet."

"You haven't changed your mind, have you?"

"No! No. I haven't changed my mind, it's just…"

"Good, because I was fully prepared to convince you to change it back if you had. I was a little concerned that you'd decided otherwise after the two of you had words at lunch," she interrupts, pushing him forward so she can scrub his back for him.

"No, actually…" he pauses, thinking. "Actually, the fact that we argued just convinced me further that it is the right thing to do."

"Because he stands up to you."

He nods. "Because he stands up to me. And don't think that I missed the message I gave myself in that dream I had yesterday, either."

Guinevere smiles. _Good, he did get it._ She runs the soapy cloth along one arm, then the other, down to his chest, sliding her hands and the cloth around along the contours of his muscles. She doesn't realize that she seems to be dallying.

Arthur does. He grins. "Enjoying yourself?"

Gwen jumps slightly, a bit embarrassed at being caught. "At the risk of stroking your ego, yes, I am. I am thoroughly enjoying the feel of your muscles under my hands," she admits, slapping him with the cloth.

"Hey!" he says, water spraying him in the face when she flicks the cloth at him. "Well, I am thoroughly enjoying the feel of your hands on me," he tells her, leaning back again to nip her earlobe. She bends her head down and kisses him, her left hand taking the cloth and sliding it down under the water, between his legs.

He grunts as she finds him and slowly runs the cloth around his manhood, more slowly than necessary. _Thank you,_ he thinks, closing his eyes.

Her hand leaves him and he whines a little, so she pushes his shoulders down, dunking him under the water. He comes back up, sputtering slightly, wiping the water from his eyes.

"Guinevere!" he tries to sound irritated, but he is laughing too hard. So is she. "Well, now you have to wash my hair," he tells her.

"Obviously," she says, chuckling.

Fully clean now, he stands and turns, holding his hand down for her. She takes it and stands, shivering slightly. The water had cooled down considerably and the tub was too full with both of them in it to add any more hot water.

Arthur hurriedly reaches for a towel and wraps her in it, then lifts her from the tub, almost as if she were a small child. She hurries over to the fireplace and chucks in a few more logs before drying herself in the warmth of the fire. She pulls the comb from her hair and lets it fall, shaking it slightly, raking her fingers through it, separating and untangling the curls.

She walks back over to her wardrobe, and Arthur's hand shoots out and grabs her as she passes.

"What do you think you're doing, my queen?" he mutters low in her ear, pulling her into his embrace, kissing her soundly before trailing down the side of her neck.

"If you had your way, I'd…" she pauses as he bites her neck lightly, drawing a small gasp from her lips, "…never be dressed."

"You say that… like it's… a bad thing," he teases, and she feels his lips smiling against her neck as he nuzzles her, nibbling her ear.

He breaks the kiss and leans back to look at her. Her hair is hanging in loose curls, drying in the warmth of the fire, her already-full lips swollen and wet, wearing nothing but a towel. "You are beautiful, Wife. It's… almost too bad that I'm the only one that gets to see you this way, you are so lovely."

"Arthur, really," she says, smiling, blushing under his compliments.

"No, really. I… I love your hair all loose like this. Why don't you wear it this way?" He twines a curl around his finger.

"Because it isn't proper for a queen to be running around with her hair unbound like a girl."

"Since when do you care about that?" he asks, unwinding his finger.

"Well, it also gets in my way," she smiles.

He raises his hands to either side of her head and threads his fingers through the thick dark brown curls, coarse yet strangely silken, feeling how they tangle and slide, still slightly damp. She closes her eyes as he slides his fingers through, letting the tresses fall from his fingers once, twice, then the third time he plunges his hands in to pull her head gently up to his for a kiss.

He holds her head gently as he teases her lips open beneath his, his tongue snaking into her waiting mouth where she sucks it hungrily in, her hands clinging to his chest. He moves one hand down around her waist, leaning her back as she brings her hands up around his neck, holding on.

Without releasing her lips, Arthur reaches down and lifts her in his arms and carries her to the bed, where he deposits her there, gently. She lifts her eyes to him and watches him with a crafty look on her face.

He steps forward and Gwen reaches out for him, yanking the towel from around his waist before taking his erect member in her hand, holding it softly. Arthur stops breathing for a moment. She grins and raises an eyebrow at him, then leans forward and takes him in her mouth.

"Oh… Guinev…" he gasps. His knees buckle and one of his hands goes up to grip the bedpost while the other delves into her hair. His head falls back as she slides her tongue along his length and reaches her hand up to cup him beneath.

He opens his eyes and looks down at her, her full lips on him, dark curls free and loose, towel coming undone, lounging on the bed. She takes him into her mouth as far as she can and slides back slowly, glancing up as she does so.

They lock eyes for a moment and a slow smile spreads across his face as he watches her, the love tangible between them.

She swirls her tongue around him, then nibbles very gently at the tip, bringing forth a groan from him. Her hand is caressing and squeezing lightly, adding another layer of sensation and Arthur suddenly realizes she has brought him to the brink quicker than expected. He gasps, his breathing labored.

"Ahh… oh… Gwen… um…" he tries, but she ignores him and keeps at it, once again taking him fully in. She skims her other hand up his thigh, and around behind to ghost across his backside before she grips the muscle there, holding him.

"Gwen… st…"

She keeps him tightly in her mouth, sliding her lips very slowly, and a moment later he releases into her mouth and she reflexively swallows his seed as it hits the back of her throat, his member pulsing between her lips.

He breathes again as she delicately removes him from her mouth and her hand, sliding back onto the bed, resting back on her elbows.

Arthur stares at her, amazed and a little confused. "Guinevere…"

She can feel his eyes rake over her, from her tiny brown toes to the towel now only casually draped around her, revealing her shapely legs and soft, beautiful shoulders, her breasts threatening to spring free at any moment; to the tumble of curls spilled around her shoulders, finally setting on her face, eyes dark with desire, succulent lips parted slightly, invitingly. Her tongue snakes out briefly and licks them unconsciously and Arthur's arousal begins building anew.

"Come here, Arthur," she beckons.

He does not need to be told a second time and he climbs across her, reaching for her towel.

He pulls the towel free, with her help as she shifts slightly to allow it to free. He whips it backward over his shoulder to land on the floor near his.

He dives over her, immediately raining kisses on her neck, saying, "You surprise me again, my love."

"Curiosity," she gasps, her hands on his chest, sliding, feeling the muscles jump under her touch as he descends to kiss her lips, his tongue retracing the path he just watched her tongue make moments ago.

His hands rove her body as if he is exploring it for the first time, touching, skimming, feeling every curve and slope, and Guinevere feels as if his hands are simply everywhere.

"Arthur…" she gasps, and he ducks his head to take one breast in his mouth while his hand softly grips the other. She lifts her hips slightly and feels his arousal, already fully hard again, slide against her thigh. He groans at the contact.

There is a knock at the door.

"Was that… …oh!" she is distracted by Arthur's gentle nibbling at her breast, taunting her nipple into a hard nub.

There is another knock. Arthur lifts his head from Gwen's breast and shouts back at the door, "Go away!"

Gwen stifles a giggle and he returns his attention to her, dipping his hips to nudge her moist folds with his manhood. Her amusement is immediately forgotten as her legs spread wider for him, almost unbidden. Arthur drops a hand to touch her there, slipping his fingers into her in a way that makes her cry out.

He smiles as he suckles at her other breast, lavishing attention on it much as he did the other.

Arthur's fingers slide and stroke her and she squirms beneath him, desperate for him.

"Arthur… please…" she begs, lifting her hips again, pressing against his hand.

"Please?" he leans back and asks, teasing.

"Oh, yes…" she gasps, writhing, trying to bring him closer again.

He enters her then, sliding in easily. They both groan with pleasure and he lowers down again to kiss her as he moves over her. Guinevere feels slightly light-headed at the sensation, the sweet friction as he slips in and out.

Arthur's lips leave hers and he wraps his arms around her shoulders, saying, "Hold on," as he rolls them, and Guinevere suddenly finds herself over him, her hair cascading down over them like a thick curtain.

She flips it to one side and leans down to kiss him, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck. He places his hands on her hips, helping her move over him. Her feet wrap around his legs and she leans forward further, stretching herself out over him.

"Oh…" she moans, finding a new sensation in this new position. Arthur lifts his head to kiss her breasts, hovering tantalizingly close, and she holds his head to her, supporting her own weight with one arm as he licks and bites lightly at her nipple.

His hands release her hips and she keeps moving as they run around to hold her backside, caressing softly, sliding his fingertips up and down her back so softly that she shivers.

"Oh… yes… oh my… Arthur… Oh, God…"

Her release comes like a streak of lightning across the sky, hot and bright and fast, warmth spreading out from her center to envelop her body.

Arthur grins up at her and his head drops back to the pillows and she bends to kiss him, her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling just slightly.

She remembers to keep moving for him, and his grip tightens on her buttocks as he lets forth a great growl and lifts his hips powerfully up into her, stilling her as he floods into her.

She drops gracefully onto him, snuggling into his chest with a contented smile plastered on her face. He brings his arms around her back, hugging her tightly to him as he breathes in the scent of her freshly-washed hair, so close, before releasing his breath in a sigh of extreme contentment.

xXx

_My dear King Arthur,_

_ I would be indeed honored to host a meeting that will bring peace to your two kingdoms. I have taken the liberty of sending a message to King Odin myself, in the hopes that he will be more receptive if the invitation came from a trusted ally._

_ I look forward to meeting your new queen and will look for you in one month's time._

_ Respectfully yours,_

_ Queen Annis of Caerleon_

They read Queen Annis' letter over dinner, finally enjoying a meal alone, which Arthur is thankful for because that's what he's wanted to do all day. Guinevere enjoys the solitude because she didn't have to put her gown back on and could spend the rest of the afternoon and evening in her dressing gown. And another pair of Arthur's socks. _I should make some of these for myself,_ she muses, stabbing a chunk of potato with her fork. _They are certainly cozy._

"That was very wise of her to write Odin herself," Gwen says.

"She is that, indeed," Arthur says, still grateful to the queen for forgiving him.

"I do look forward to meeting her, though I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about it."

"Hmm? Um, Guinevere, I hadn't yet decided if you were coming along…"

"Oh, I don't get a say?"

Arthur sets his fork down and furrows his brow. "It could be dangerous."

"You will be there, as will several knights."

"It is a long journey."

"It is just under a days' ride, Arthur." She sets her fork down now and fixes him in her stare.

"Someone needs to stay here and take care of the kingdom."

"I believe that's what the council is for."

"It may rain."

"Arthur, now you're just being ridiculous."

"Am I? After what just happened today with Lord Dungball and his creepy little toad? No. I can't risk it."

"I'm going."

"You are not."

"You will disappoint Queen Annis. She wrote that she wants to meet me."

"She will understand."

"I want to meet her."

"I want you to stay here."

"So you _want_ to be apart from me?"

"No! That's not it at all! I just…"

"I am going."

"Guine_vere_…" he cajoles

"Not going to work."

"But…"

"I will feel safer out there with you than here alone, Arthur. Surely you realize that."

He sighs. _I'm not going to win._

"And I was hoping that I could learn from Queen Annis, if she is as great a queen as you say. I'm sure there is much she can teach me."

_Can't argue that point._ "I don't know…"

"I'm going." She picks up her fork again.

xXx

Merlin listens carefully outside the doors to the royal chambers to make sure he's not interrupting again. He bites back a smile remembering Arthur's shout of "Go away!" several hours earlier.

Hearing nothing but talking and cutlery, he knocks.

"Come," Arthur's voice calls out immediately.

Merlin enters, nodding politely at them. "Arthur…" he begins.

Arthur sets his goblet down. "Yes?"

"The search party has returned," he says. He does not look happy, though. Gwen turns around to look at him.

"And?" Arthur asks, already knowing the answer.

"They found nothing. Not even a trail. It's like they rode off and… disappeared," Merlin says, frowning.

"That's not possible, Merlin." Arthur's face is hard. He is not pleased by this news at all. _I should have given chase immediately,_ he thinks.

"Perhaps they weren't really heading west," Merlin suggests. "We have no idea which way they actually went. He told you west, but we know that the man is a liar."

"Damn!" Arthur pounds his fist on the table.

"I'm inclined to agree with Merlin. If he's working for Morgana, there's no telling where he was actually going and for what reason. We can only hope he's not heading north to try and interfere with our upcoming meeting."

"Send a party north, then. As far as the northern borders only, Merlin. I do not want any of my men infringing on Odin's kingdom right now."

"Now, my lord? The daylight is growing dim," Merlin asks.

He sighs. "Will have to wait till first light, then. Damn. Curse him and his stupid toad Bernard."

"Bertrand."

"I don't care."


	16. Chapter 16

Almost one month later.

"Ah, Merlin, come in, please," Arthur says when Merlin appears in the doorway. He and Guinevere are preparing for the next day's journey. "Close the door."

Merlin closes the door and enters. "My lord?"

Gwen is seated at the table, and Arthur joins her. "Please sit," he motions to Merlin.

_What is going on?_ Merlin wonders. _I haven't messed anything up lately, nobody has been caught eavesdropping at their door again; everything's been running smoothly…_

"Merlin, don't look so worried," Gwen says, reaching across the table to touch her friend's hand. "If Arthur wanted to yell at you, he would have started already."

Merlin laughs at this, grateful that his friendship with Gwen has remained largely unchanged.

"Merlin, I called you here to… um… to let you know that effective immediately, I no longer require your services as my personal manservant," Arthur says.

"What? But—" Merlin shouts, looking at Gwen. _Don't worry, you tell me?_

"Please let me finish," Arthur interrupts. "I am promoting you to the position of Royal Advisor, Merlin. Instead of polishing armor and doing my laundry you'll be… assisting me with matters of state, helping make decisions, that kind of thing. My personal advisor," he waves his hand vaguely. "It is a position normally given to a noble, you know," he adds, looking pointedly at Merlin.

Merlin sits, dumbfounded. Gwen is smiling at him. Arthur looks slightly uncomfortable at having to openly acknowledge Merlin's worth during a time when they don't think that they are about to die.

_I can't. I_ can't. _It was one thing to hide my magic from him when I was just a servant, but as Royal Advisor? No. Just, no. I won't do it. I… I'd have to tell him in order to accept the position with a clear conscience. But do I dare? He has flashes, moments when I think I can tell him… but then something always comes along to crush those moments._

"Merlin?" Guinevere prompts.

"No." Merlin says simply, quietly.

"Beg pardon?" Arthur asks.

"No, Sire. I cannot accept."

"It's not a request, Merlin."

"Nevertheless, I cannot."

"So you're happy picking up after me and generally suffering my abuse?"

"I did not say that, Arthur. I'm just saying that I cannot accept the post."

"Merlin, if this is your way of fishing for compliments…"

"No! It's not. I… I really appreciate the offer, I _really_ do. It means more to me than I can possibly say." He bites his lip and looks across at Gwen. She looks upset and confused, wanting to help him. "But I just _can't._ Please don't ask me to explain." He drops his head and a single tear falls from his eye and hits his hands, folded in his lap.

"Merlin, if there's anything…" Gwen tries, gently.

"No," he sniffs, not looking up, "there's not. There's nothing you can do to help."

Arthur and Gwen look at each other. They were certainly not expecting him to refuse.

Gwen rises from her seat and walks around the table to sit beside Merlin. She takes his hand in hers. "Just… think about it some more, okay?" she speaks softly, gently. "Give us your answer when we return from Caerleon." She looks over his shoulder at Arthur, who nods in agreement.

Merlin nods slowly, and looks up at Gwen. She reaches up and wipes a tear from his cheek, and he says, "I cannot promise I still won't say no."

"I know that. This was not a decision Arthur came to quickly, so please give us the same courtesy of not making your own decision in haste, Merlin."

Merlin stands, and Guinevere stands with him and gives him a hug. Arthur stands and clasps his hand, nodding at him.

"Get some rest, Merlin. You can have the rest of the night off," he says.

Merlin nods, and heads toward the door. "Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"For what it's worth, thank you."

"No, Merlin, thank you."

xXx

Merlin enters the chambers he shares with Gaius, sick. Sick with the trust he has garnered in Arthur and Guinevere. Sick with his own secret. Sick with wanting to be Arthur's personal advisor more than anything. Just sick.

He closes the door and leans against it heavily.

"Merlin, what's the matter?" Gaius asks, standing to walk over to him. "You look terrible."

"Arthur wants me as Royal Advisor. He wants me to be his _personal_ advisor," he says glumly.

"That's wonderful news, Merlin! Why do you look like you've just been dragged behind a dung cart, then?"

"Don't you see, Gaius? I can't! I can't be his personal advisor because of this—" he holds up his hand, a plume of fire dancing in his palm, "—and this—" he looks at a dried herb in a jar, and with a flash of his eyes, it revives and blooms, "—and—"

"I get it Merlin, I get it," Gaius holds his hands up in surrender, and then puts them around his shoulders, hugging him comfortingly.

"I'm just sick about it, Gaius," Merlin says into Gaius' shoulder. "I really want to be able to accept the position. Arthur said that it wasn't really a request, you know. But I cannot do so with a clear conscience if I have this… secret… within me."

Gaius releases Merlin, and the two go and sit at the table, where Gaius gives him some stew. "Merlin, I admire your fortitude, but if Arthur said it's not a request, then, you may have no choice."

"But I do. Even if… if I have to leave Camelot, then…"

"That's a bit rash, Merlin."

"It's a big secret, Gaius. It's not a little secret, like having six toes on one foot or sneaking food out of the palace kitchens. This is a big, whopping, _illegal_ secret!" He sets his forehead down on the table with a _thunk._

"What did Gwen say?" Gaius asks softly.

"She told me to take some time; to give them my answer after we return from Caerleon."

"That is good advice," he nods.

"Gaius…" Merlin lifts his head.

"Yes?"

"Should I…?"

"Tell Arthur?" Gaius guesses, and Merlin nods. "Oo, that is difficult."

"No kidding." He puts his head back on the table. "If there was a way I could _show_ him, let him _see…_"

"A definite thought. It would have to be something big, something important. Like life-or-death," he muses, and Merlin lifts his head. "And not contrived," Gaius says sternly, looking directly at Merlin. "So don't go cooking something up."

"I know. You're right. It was just a thought. And it would have to be major. Like… stopping something horrible from happening to Gwen. Not that I'm wishing anything ill on her," he frowns.

"Of course not, but that's exactly the kind of thing it would take."

"And I can't make it happen just so I can stop it?" he screws his mouth to one side, trying.

"Absolutely not. Those kinds of situations always end up badly, Merlin, you should know that by now," Gaius says, arching an eyebrow at him before taking a bite of his dinner. "And if Arthur were to find out that you set something like that up, he'd have your head for certain."

Merlin sighs and pokes at his stew. He sighs. "I could never intentionally put Gwen in danger anyway. She means far too much to me. So I guess I just wait around for something horrible to happen so I can try to use my magic in front of Arthur."

"I fear you have little choice in the matter, Merlin."

xXx

Next morning the party prepares to head out at first light. It is a clear day, with some fog just starting to burn away. The group is small: just Arthur, Guinevere, Merlin, Gwaine and Elyan. Leon and Percival lost the toss and had to stay behind to oversee the rest of the knights.

"Great, we get to listen to Gwaine prattle on the whole journey," Arthur mutters as the two knights ride up to join them.

"Arthur, he's an excellent knight, so what if he's more talkative than you'd like?" Gwen asks, smiling at him.

"I know that," he admits, turning his head to see Merlin approaching. "I'm still not completely convinced that it is safe for you to come along on this journey," he tells her with a half smile.

"That's why Gwaine and Elyan are coming too, remember?" Gwen follows Arthur's gaze. Merlin's face is serious, and both Gwen and Arthur know immediately that he isn't going to be his usual cheerful self on this journey.

"All right, let's go," Merlin says as he rides past the four of them, not stopping his horse.

"Merlin…" Arthur says. Then he sighs, and repeats the command Merlin just gave, spurring his horse forward to catch up to Merlin and ride in front.

They ride out, Arthur and Merlin in the front, Gwen in the middle, and the two knights bringing up the rear, protecting their queen on all sides as they ride.

"Don't even ask, Arthur," Merlin says, riding alongside Arthur.

"I wasn't going to."

"Yes, you were."

"Okay, maybe I was. You puzzle me, Merlin."

"Sorry."

"You're a terrible servant, you know…"

"I'm not and you know it."

"Okay, you're not. But still, wouldn't being my advisor—"

"Stop, Arthur. I'm not discussing it. Not with you. Or anyone here. Not now." His face is stony, looking straight ahead.

"I can order you, you know."

"You only pull rank on me when you're backed into a corner and don't know what else to say."

_Ouch._ That stops Arthur cold.

"Besides, if you order me and I refuse, what recourse would you have? We're not in Camelot. What would you do, send me back? Oh, dear," he rolls his eyes.

"Shut up, Merlin." _But that's precisely why I need you to be my advisor,_ he thinks grimly, but wisely keeps the thought inside. _You see things in a completely different way than anyone I know._ Arthur drops back to ride beside Gwen for a bit.

"You didn't try talking to him, did you?" she asks.

"Well, yes."

"You did say you wouldn't press."

"Well, he was so quiet. It wasn't natural."

"Whatever is causing his reluctance must be something deep, Arthur. We must give him time to work it out. And no, Gaius wouldn't tell me anything, so don't even ask," she says. Gaius had asked her to stop in before they left so he could give her some basic medicinal supplies, just in case.

_Merlin has enough to worry about right now, and I trust you with these things as much as I do him,_ Gaius had said, but would say no more.

"I can't even say for sure if he even knows what is troubling Merlin," she adds. Her stomach rumbles loudly, and Arthur looks at her.

"Hungry, my love?" he asks, eyebrows going up in amusement.

"Apparently so. I did eat a sufficient breakfast, though," she says.

Arthur chuckles and looks back to Gwaine.

"Gwaine, got any food handy? Guinevere is a bit peckish up here."

Gwaine pulls an apple from his saddlebag and flings it to Arthur, who catches it and hands it to Gwen.

"Thank you," she tells Arthur. Looking down at the apple, she turns her head back at Gwaine and asks, "What, no roast chicken in there?"

"Not today, my lady," he says, joining in the others' laugher.

xXx

The sun is high in the sky, and they decide to stop for a rest and a bite of lunch. The men let Guinevere build a small fire while Merlin starts preparing some food. She stretches and sits on a rock, watching Merlin, sad for him.

_He's not himself. I wish I could help him. I wish I knew what was troubling him. I don't like seeing him upset. Arthur and I are his closest friends; why can he not tell us?_

"I'm all right, Gwen," Merlin says, catching her watching him.

"No, you're not, Merlin." She stands and walks over to him. "Whatever is troubling you, you can tell me," she tells him.

"I can't. Gwen, you're one of my closest friends, you know that. I love you like a sister, but this is something I need to deal with alone. At least right now. One day I may be able to tell you, but right now, I can't. I know you can't understand it, but please accept it, as my friend." He gives her a sad smile.

She sighs. "All right, Merlin. I don't like it, but you don't seem to be budging." She stands and walks back to her rock. "I'm surrounded by stubborn men," she mutters as she walks along.

_Oh, great._ "Arthur?" she calls.

"Yes, Love?"

"Um, I'll be… right back. I need to… ah, nature, you know," she stammers.

"Ah. Yes. Right," he says, understanding. Then, much to her horror, he calls, "Elyan."

Elyan walks up. "Yes, Sire?"

"Please accompany the queen into the… woods," he waves vaguely.

"Arthur, I do not need an escort!" Gwen protests.

"I am not having you out of my sight without protection, and since Elyan is your brother, he is perfectly qualified to…"

"Fine!" she stands up, exasperated. "Come on," she says, irritated, plucking at Elyan's cape as she stomps past him.

"Gwen, where are we going?" Elyan asks, clueless for the moment.

Once they are clear of the group, she wheels around and says quietly, "I have to pee." Then she spins back around and stomps forward again.

"Oh. Glad I asked."

"Shut up."

She decides they are far enough away and goes behind a tree.

"Elyan—"

"You don't need to tell me not to look, Gwen; I'm not going to," Elyan chuckles, his back already to her.

A few minutes later she walks back out, punches him lightly on the shoulder, and strides past him.

"Hey!" he calls, walking up behind her.

They reach the edge of the camp and Elyan hears something off to his left. He turns his head. "What…"

There is a small muffled yelp from Guinevere and he looks back to see she's gone.

"Gwen!" he looks, running forward. "Guinevere!" he yells.

The others come running at the sound of Elyan's yells.

"Where's Guinevere? What happened?" Arthur yells, drawing his sword, looking carefully around, eyes darting. Merlin watches, eyes scanning.

Gwaine and Elyan draw their swords, spreading out.

"Nobody move."

Arthur whirls around to see Guinevere being held from behind by Bertrand. He is holding a sword in front of her throat and his arm is around her middle.

"You!" Arthur shouts, stepping forward instinctively. Bertrand tightens his grip on Gwen and Arthur stops.

"Take one more step and I kill your precious serving girl," Bertrand says.

"You're a fool," Arthur says. "There are four of us and one of you." He is outwardly calm, but Gwen can see that he is seething with fury.

"Don't be so sure about that," Bertrand says, and a dozen men emerge from the forest, dressed in the colors of Odin's kingdom.

_These are not Odin's men,_ Merlin thinks, looking carefully at them. _This is someone wanting us to think that they are Odin's men._ His weapon of choice at the moment is a cast iron skillet, blunt and heavy.

Arthur watches Guinevere. She is looking pointedly at him, intending to catch his attention. _She seems calm,_ Arthur notes. Then he notices her right hand moving slowly up under her cloak, creeping over to her belt on the left side. His eyebrows twitch up just a touch. She nods slightly.

_Keep him distracted._ "So, what, it's…" he looks, "Twelve to four? Pssh. Big deal," he says, swinging his sword in a circle, rotating his wrist. He just _knows_ Gwaine is grinning like an idiot behind him.

_Just the kind of odds he likes._

Bertrand's arm is high on her waist, above her belt, so she able to slip her dagger out of its sheath fairly easily.

Gwen's hand appears below the hem of her cloak, clutching her small dagger. _She's not holding that right,_ Arthur worries, watching while also keeping his eye on the other men, stalking forward slowly, awaiting orders.

_Something's not right about these men,_ he thinks.

Just then Gwen's hand moves, fast enough to impress Arthur, and she stabs Bertrand's sword hand solidly, causing him to drop the sword with a curse, and he releases Gwen to grip his injured hand.

She wheels around and brings her knee up sharply into his groin and he falls with a strangled groan.

At that, the other men attack. Gwen hangs to the side, dagger ready, and Merlin rushes over to her, gripping his skillet.

Arthur lunges forward and dispatches two men easily and immediately, wheeling in time to see a laughing Gwaine push one man into another with his foot, landing both against a large tree, where they fall unconscious.

Elyan spins and slashes, taking out another, and Merlin clobbers still another with his pan.

"Nice weapon, Merlin," Arthur calls. Merlin actually smiles, spinning the skillet around in his hand. "Behind you!" Arthur shouts, pointing, and Guinevere turns faster and stabs one man in the stomach. He blinks in surprise at his brave little queen and turns with a smile on his face as he drives the butt of his sword into the bridge of another assailant's nose, sending blood squirting everywhere.

Elyan and Gwaine fight back to back, a flurry of swordplay. "These guys are no good at all," Gwaine comments, dispatching yet another. Elyan laughs, then sees Bertrand move behind Gwen.

"Gwen!" he shouts, and she turns to see Bertrand on his knees, sword clutched in his left hand.

_Now's my chance,_ Merlin thinks, and, standing behind Gwen, he glances over his shoulder to make sure Arthur is watching.

He is.

Merlin mutters a word, his eyes flash, and a large branch drops from the tree above, landing on Bertrand's head, knocking him unconscious. Gwen yelps and jumps backward, bumping into Merlin.

Merlin turns around again, heart thumping its way out of his chest, only to see Arthur locked in a tussle with one of the last remaining attackers, a very large man who is carrying no visible weapon.

_He missed it._

He slumps his shoulders, and idly whacks another attacker with his pan, almost sadly.

Arthur finally subdues the huge man by climbing on his back and wrapping his arm around the man's thick neck until he passes out. He then turns his attention back to Gwen.

"Are you all right?" he calls as he runs up the hill to where she and Merlin were standing.

"Yes," she says, wiping the blade of her dagger clean using Bertrand's cloak before replacing it in her belt.

"What happened?" he asks.

"That branch fell on his head," she says, furrowing her brow. "Odd, I know."

"So he's not dead, then?" Arthur says grimly.

"I don't know."

Gwaine and Elyan approach, putting their swords in their sheaths. "This is the man, the one that tried to accost you?" Elyan asks.

"Yes," Gwen says simply, nudging Bertrand with the toe of her boot.

"Oh come on, you can give him a better kick than that, Gwen," Gwaine teases her.

She laughs. "Wouldn't serve any purpose. He can't feel it," she says, walking away.

"Merlin," Arthur says quietly.

"Yes?"

"Keep her away from here," he says grimly.

"Yes," he says, understanding. He jogs down the small slope of the hill to join Guinevere. "Gwen, you were brilliant," he starts, looking furtively over his shoulder.

He notices Gwaine studying him, an inscrutable look on his face.

Arthur steps to Bertrand and kicks the branch away from his head. Bertrand groans very slightly. He looks back at Elyan and Gwaine, who in turn look down to see Merlin keeping Gwen occupied by the fire, giving her something to drink, making sure she sits with her back to the three others. Regardless, the two knights stand with their bodies between Gwen and Bertrand's unconscious body, blocking as best they can.

His eyes cold yet fiery, Arthur raises his sword, and with a great sweep, lops off Bertrand's head. Then he kicks it away slightly, and it rolls to rest a very short distance away, stopping to rest against the hand of another assailant, one that is alive but unconscious.

"Leave that one alive," he says harshly, pointing. "He can bring the news back to Lord Roderick and Morgana."

Arthur stoops and wipes the blade of his sword off on Bertrand's cloak in the same way that Gwen did her dagger, and re-sheaths it.

He strides away to rejoin Guinevere and Merlin by the fire. She is sitting motionless, contemplating the flames and willing her heartbeat back to its normal rate while Merlin resumes lunch preparations. _Assuming they still wish to eat,_ he thinks. Arthur reaches his hands down for Gwen and pulls her to her feet and into his arms, smoothing her hair and resting his cheek on top of her head.

_If I could kill that idiot again I would,_ he thinks, carefully packing his rage away, saving it up for when and if he sees Lord Roderick again. Or Morgana. _Either would suffice._

He reaches one hand up to her chin, tilting her head this way and that before holding her at arms' length to check her over.

"Wow. It's like someone has pulled a lever inside him," Elyan observes in a whisper to Gwaine. Both knights are surprised and impressed at Arthur's ability to change from a man who just recently executed someone rather gruesomely into a loving and gentle husband, concerned about his wife's well-being.

Seemingly satisfied that she is unscathed, Gwen watches as Arthur's face clouds again and he pulls her once again into his arms, tightly, clinging to her, his eyes squeezed tight.

Merlin goes about his cooking and the two knights decide to continue their survey of the casualties.

"Arthur," Gwen says softly. She tries to pull free from his arms, only to find herself locked in a vise-like grip.

"Arthur."

"Hmm?"

"I'm all right," she says, leaning up to kiss him softly.

He reluctantly loosens his grip on her and she sits again. Arthur sits beside her, his arm around her, and she rests her head on his shoulder.

"Arthur?" she asks.

"Yes, Love?"

"Don't you dare say 'I told you so.'"


	17. Chapter 17

Lunch took longer than expected, so they ride swifter after they eat, slowing occasionally to let the horses rest some.

"I must say Guinevere, you did impress me back there," Arthur says, dropping back to ride beside his wife for a bit.

"Thank you. I tried to be brave, but my heart was pounding like a frightened rabbit," she admits.

"Well, it did not show. I am also impressed that you still wanted lunch after all that… all that carnage," he chuckles.

"I've been very hungry today. It's strange. Must be the fresh air," she shrugs.

"Could be. You have been spending rather a lot of time indoors lately," he says.

"Not entirely my fault, my lord," she says, raising an eyebrow at him, the implication plain on her face.

He chuckles, then his face grows serious again. "Guinevere," he starts.

"Yes?"

"Back there, um, excellent job with the dagger and all…"

"But…?"

"But you were holding it backwards."

She looks at him as if he had just stated something ridiculously obvious. "I know."

"You know?"

"Of course, Arthur." She reaches over and draws the dagger out and holds it the way she did when she thrust it into Bertrand's hand, with the hilt by her thumb and the blade sticking out near her pinky, her palm up. "I held it this way because I was stabbing _toward_ myself, at Bertrand's hand." She illustrates, moving her hand just slightly.

He watches, realizing that it was himself that was in error, not her, and he smiles slightly as she switches the knife in her hand, holding it properly, the blade protruding from between her thumb and forefinger.

"Clearly you missed the fact that when I stabbed that _other_ brute in the stomach I was holding my dagger properly, Arthur," she points out.

"Mmm. Apparently so."

"I've spent enough time in kitchens over the years that I know how to handle a knife, my love," she says with a smirk as she puts her dagger away.

"I shall definitely remember that next time we argue," he says, and she laughs.

"Yes, Sire, you do need to watch out for her when she's irked," Elyan says to them from behind, hoping that his teasing will be taken as such from his sister. Their relationship is still mending, and he is still very careful around her. When she laughs, he breathes.

"You would know," she shoots back, but suddenly her amused smirk turns into a large yawn, and she quickly brings her hand to her mouth, a bit embarrassed.

"Gwaine, you've been quiet this afternoon," Arthur observes. He is looking back at the knight and doesn't see Merlin's head turn back sharply at this observation.

"Hmm? Oh, sorry," he says vaguely.

"Don't apologize, please," Arthur says. "Just wanted to make sure that you aren't ill or something."

"Healthy as a horse," he says, brightening some, but he still seems troubled by something.

"Good," Arthur says, and with a loving smile at Gwen, he trots forward to join Merlin in the lead.

xXx

"Those weren't Odin's men," Merlin says as Arthur rejoins him.

"I know that. How could you tell?" Arthur is curious.

"They were far too grubby, too… undisciplined."

"Agreed. Odin has been our adversary for many years, but that doesn't mean the man doesn't have standards. These were hired thugs in fancy dress."

"Not _that_ fancy," Merlin says.

"Was that a joke?" Arthur asks, eyebrows lifting.

"Of course not. I'm brooding, remember?" Merlin deadpans.

"Right. So. Is Lord Dungball really so dim to think that we wouldn't recognize Bertrand? Did he honestly think we'd believe that Odin would send his own knights to ambush us on our way to a meeting to try and make peace with him?"

"Ridiculous. Maybe he didn't know Bertrand would go along."

"Or maybe he really is that stupid."

"That is also a distinct possibility."

"Morgana is usually smarter than this," Arthur says, brows furrowing.

"She may be weakened. She _should_ be dead, given how I last saw her. That she yet lives is curious indeed," Merlin says. "She probably left the planning to Roderick."

"Monumental mistake."

"Well if you consider the company she's kept, possible allies are getting more and more scarce. It seems those she tries to sway end up dead or changing loyalties," Merlin says.

"Queen Annis, for one," Arthur says.

"Really?" Merlin had been thinking of Alator. _But I can hardly tell Arthur about that._

"I found out that Morgana had visited her during that time, trying to advise her, to help her… do away with me."

"Queen Annis told you this?" Merlin says. _I had always suspected._

"She did. I'm sure Agravaine was Morgana's pawn in there somewhere also," he says bitterly.

Merlin nods, "I'm sure of it as well."

xXx

They reach the gates of Caerleon Castle just before dusk. Scouts had greeted them earlier and ridden ahead to alert the queen, and she is standing in the courtyard to greet them.

The party stops and stablehands and pages attend them and their horses. Arthur dismounts quickly to assist Guinevere, lifting her down from her horse and setting her gently on her feet.

"Guinevere, why didn't you say you were tired?" he asks quietly, noting that she looks exhausted.

"I'm fine, Arthur, I didn't want to delay us any further," she smiles and rests her hand in the crook of his arm as he walks toward Queen Annis.

Gwen watches the queen, tall and proud, stunning. _She must have been a great beauty in her youth,_ she thinks, noting that even at her mature age she is still very lovely, hair not yet greyed, face showing only a few signs of age. _Calm. Calm. You're a queen, too. Don't forget it, Gwen._

"King Arthur, very nice to see you again, and under more pleasant circumstances," Annis smiles warmly, extending her hand to Arthur.

"Your majesty, I am honored and humbled to receive your hospitality," Arthur says, bowing to kiss her hand.

He straightens and turns to Guinevere. "Please allow me to present my wife, Queen Guinevere of Camelot."

Gwen curtseys, a feat not easily accomplished in trousers and a riding cloak, but she does so gracefully. "Your majesty, I am greatly pleased to meet you," she says, smiling.

"The pleasure is mine, my dear, I assure you. I was much pleased when word reached my ears that the young king had taken a bride." She turns her gaze again to Arthur. "And I must say that marriage does seem to agree with you, my lord," she says, a small smile on her face.

"Thank you, my lady," Arthur says. "I hope it's no inconvenience, but we've brought along two of my knights. We've had some cause for need of extra security lately, especially in regards to the queen, and I felt it safer to have them accompany us on our journey. May I present Sir Gwaine and Sir Elyan," he indicates the two knights, who each bow respectfully.

Arthur eyes Gwaine closely, daring him to make a remark. The knight behaves himself; he doesn't even wink. But Arthur can see the imp lurking within, dying to get out.

"You are welcome in Caerleon, Sir Knights," she says, "Your loyalty to your king and queen is to be commended." Her eyes dart briefly to Merlin. _I see he still has his fool servant,_ she thinks, but says nothing. _Though he no longer seems as much a fool,_ she realizes, noting the young man's countenance, serious and focused, as if he is absorbing everything he sees and hears.

"Please, I can see you are tired, my lady, let me show you to your rooms so you may rest before dinner," she says. Arthur steps forward and offers Annis his other arm.

"Thank you," she says, taking it, and Arthur escorts both queens up the steps into the castle.

"Odin will be arriving in the morning," she says. "He did not wish to stay over."

"His prerogative," Arthur says casually.

"Indeed."

"I am only pleased he agreed to meet with me at all."

"Yes, I am hopeful that only good will come from this meeting. Ah, here we are."

She indicates the door and Gwen enters first, followed by Arthur.

"Perhaps you gentlemen would be comfortable in the knights' quarters?"

Gwaine and Elyan nod agreeably, and she summons a nearby guard to take them there.

"Guinevere, this is Norah," Annis says, introducing the young lady standing in the room waiting for them. "She is my personal maidservant, and she will be looking after you during your stay."

"Oh, thank you, my lady, but that really isn't necessary. I'm quite accustomed to looking after myself, I couldn't take your maid from you," Gwen says.

"Guinevere…" Arthur starts, worried about causing insult.

"No, no, that's fine, Arthur, she is allowed to have her say. But I must insist."

"I…"

"I am well aware of your history, my dear, and I know that you are capable of seeing to your own needs." She smiles at Gwen and steps forward to take her hand between her own. "But you are my guest and I like my guests to be well cared-for."

"Thank you, my lady," Gwen says, smiling back.

"Please, you may call me Annis."

Gwen nods. "Annis. My friends call me Gwen," she says.

"I don't," Arthur chimes in, rummaging through his bag as Merlin hands Gwen's dresses to Norah, who hangs them in a wardrobe so they won't wrinkle.

She looks over her shoulder at him, chuckling and rolling her eyes slightly. Annis pats her hand and releases it with a smile, saying, "Get some rest, Gwen. There is plenty of time yet before dinner."

"Thank you, Annis," Gwen says, and the queen leaves them in peace.

"My lady?" Norah asks.

"Yes?"

"Is there anything you require?"

"Perhaps a washbasin and some cool water, Norah, thank you," she says, noting her dusty hands.

"Yes, my lady."

Norah leaves, and Gwen says, "I like her."

"Good. She's… imposing at first, yes, but I'm glad to get this opportunity to get to know her better. She certainly seems fond of you," he notes.

Gwen sits heavily on the bed and pulls her boots off, wiggling her toes. The joints crack and she flops backward on the bed, closing her eyes with a sigh.

"All right, Guinevere?" Arthur asks.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Merlin, where is my vest? You did pack it, didn't you…?"

xXx

Gwen feels a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Guinevere," she hears Arthur's voice, her name a caress on his lips.

_When did it get dark?_

She feels a familiar rough warm hand stroke her cheek.

"Guinevere, wake up, Love."

_I fell asleep?_

She squeezes her eyes together and contracts her body, pulling it into a tighter ball before reluctantly opening her eyes and stretching.

_It's not dark in here. My eyes were closed. I_ was _asleep._

"Why did you let me fall asleep?" she asks sluggishly.

"I didn't _let_ you do anything," Arthur chuckles. "You just did it."

"Just like everything else," Merlin says wryly, in the background somewhere.

Gwen laughs, sitting up. "Ugh. I'm sure I look a mess. How much time before dinner?" She yawns.

"Enough. Norah brought the water for you, but you were already out. Merlin can fetch her if you'd like."

"In a bit. I can certainly wash my hands and face by myself," she says, making a face at him before standing up. She stumbles briefly when she stands, and Arthur catches her.

"Whoa, are you all right?" he asks, alarmed.

"Yes, I just must have stood up a little too quickly, that's all," she says, looking at Arthur, noting he has already dressed for dinner.

Gwen washes up, unwinds the plait from her hair, shaking it free (much to Arthur's delight), and then excuses Merlin to go retrieve Norah while she brushes the dust from her hair and attempts to put it into some semblance of order.

She is standing in front of the wardrobe contemplating the two dresses she's brought along when Norah knocks. Arthur is reviewing some parchments he's prepared for tomorrow's talks, pretending that he's not interested in what Guinevere is doing and failing miserably at it.

"I think the blue tonight. Save the lavender for tomorrow," she says, and reaches for the dress.

"Allow me, my lady," Norah jumps in and retrieves the dress for her. "This is lovely," she says as Gwen goes behind the screen to change.

"The purple one would be better for tomorrow anyway," Arthur says over his parchment.

"I thought you were reading," Gwen calls back, smiling.

"I am."

"No, you're not. If you were, you wouldn't be talking about my dresses."

"Humph," he snorts, noisily raising the parchment in front of his face.

Norah hands Gwen the dress and then steps around to lace up the back for her.

Gwen squirms a little, and Norah asks, "Sorry, too tight?"

"It shouldn't be," she says. "I did eat rather a lot today, though," she says, laughing.

"There we are, my lady," Norah says, and Gwen turns around. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you, Norah," Gwen smiles warmly at the girl. _Girl. She's probably the same age as me,_ she thinks, stepping over to the table to retrieve her dagger, sliding the sheath through her belt before placing it around her waist.

"My lady?"

"Yes?"

"May I ask why you wear a dagger?"

"Of course you may," she says, walking to the vanity to do something with her hair. She's brought along her new comb and intends to wear it tonight. "It was a gift, actually, from the captain of the guards of the Knights of Camelot."

"A gift from a knight?" Norah steps behind Guinevere and gently takes the hairbrush from her and starts working on her hair.

"It is a long story, but suffice it to say that this particular knight was concerned about my safety during a very complicated time a short while ago. He gifted me this dagger that I might have means to protect myself should I ever have a need. I promised him that I would always wear it." She pulls it from its sheath and holds it across her palm.

"And… have you ever needed to use it, my lady? If I may ask, of course," she quickly adds, securing the last tendril of Gwen's hair right where she wants it, and places the comb into her hair, the creamy white standing out proudly against the dark brown of Guinevere's curls.

"Three times, in fact," Gwen says, putting the dagger away. Norah gasps.

Gwen stands and faces the maid. "Thank you again, Norah. Queen Annis is lucky to have you as a maidservant, if you treat her as well as you treat me," Gwen says.

Norah blushes. "Thank you, my lady. It is I who is fortunate to have her as my mistress."

There is a knock at the door. "Sire?" Merlin's voice.

"Come in, Merlin," Gwen calls.

"Dinner," Merlin says, and Arthur jumps up and heads for the door, stopping short when he nears Gwen.

"Guinevere, you look absolutely beautiful," he says, leaning in to kiss her cheek softly.

Norah blushes again and exits, and Gwen notices her noticing Merlin as she passes.


	18. Chapter 18

"Dinner will be served momentarily. I hope you like roast duck," Queen Annis greets them in the hall where dinner has been set for them.

"Oh—" Arthur starts, about to give away that it is not one of Gwen's favorites when she squeezes his arm hard and interrupts.

"It sounds lovely, thank you," she says with a smile. Arthur looks down at her and she shoots him a look that says _I'm being polite; shut up._

"Please, Arthur," Annis motions to a chair to the right of her own at the head of the table.

"Thank you," Arthur says, pulling out the chair beside his for Guinevere, holding his hand out. She smiles and sits as Merlin pulls out Arthur's chair for him while another servant does the same for Annis. Arthur waits until Annis is seated before he takes his chair.

Queen Annis watches him with interest, smiling to herself at his deference to his wife and his hostess. _The boy has been taught manners, though undoubtedly not from his father,_ she thinks.

Two young men stride into the room. The one with dark hair is not very tall but sturdily built. The second is taller and leaner with auburn hair. They appear to be about the same age as Arthur, the dark one perhaps older. They immediately walk to the queen, who holds both her hands out to them.

"Mother," the dark-haired one greets her, kissing her hands before he sits beside her. His brother does the same, sitting in the next chair.

"Are we late?" Gwaine asks as they enter.

"Not at all. Please, sit," Annis motions to some chairs and the two knights sit.

"Arthur, this is my eldest son, Crown Prince Allard," Annis says indicating the dark-haired man, "and my next eldest, Prince Garret."

"It is an honor," Arthur nods.

Allard and Garret nod, but say nothing. They glance at their mother and she gives them a stern look.

Arthur notices this exchange and frowns slightly. _I should have expected this._ He clears his throat. "Um, my lords, I do owe you an apology. Quite a large one, in fact," he says quietly.

Gwen places her hand over his and he continues. "If I could go back to that day and change my actions, _not_ listen to my treacherous uncle, please know that I would. A thousand times over. I was guided that day by fear. Inexperience. Ignorance. Pride. My uncle saw all these things and used them to sway me, used my grief over my own father's death to manipulate the situation."

He looks up and the two princes are looking at him. He has their attention, but their faces betray nothing of their feelings.

"Believe me, I am not trying to pass blame on to my uncle. I didn't listen to those that I should have trusted, those that advised me to be merciful. The ultimate decision was mine to make, and I take responsibility for it. I can only ask, humbly, that you grant me your forgiveness for one of the greatest mistakes I have made. I do not deserve it, but I ask it of you nevertheless, knight to knight."

The princes regard him for a moment. Arthur waits. No one breathes. Guinevere squeezes his hand. Merlin watches the princes carefully. Gwaine and Elyan watch, helpless. They know this is something Arthur must handle on his own, though it pains them greatly to stand by and watch.

Annis looks to her sons, and says softly, "Allard, Garret; I have forgiven the young king. He is a worthy man, and what he says is from his heart."

Garret speaks first. "I accept your apology, King Arthur. I credit you for having stomach enough to face us and say the words. I have mourned for my father and it is time to move forward. You have my forgiveness, my lord."

"Thank you, Garret."

Allard stands and draws his sword, holding the tip unwaveringly, inches from Arthur's throat.

"Allard…" Annis starts.

Arthur does not move; he does not even flinch. Merlin takes a step forward, and Gwen grabs for his hand.

"You are indeed brave, King. But can I trust your words, or are they just empty words spoken?"

Arthur stands, slowly, hands raised. Allard's blade stays with him, tracking upwards with his body. Arthur slowly draws his own sword and sets it on the table in front of him.

"You may run me through if you think it will ease your heart, Prince Allard. I assure you, though, it will not."

Allard re-sheaths his sword. "There has been enough bloodshed. This visit is about peace and mending that which is broken. Spilling your blood on my mother's table will not help that cause."

"Thank you, Prince Allard," Arthur says, lifting his own sword from the table and replacing it. _I notice he did not exactly accept the apology._

Allard sits, and Arthur follows.

"Allard," Annis says, "You have more to say?"

Gwen watches the queen. _A question, yet not a question. She is crafty._

"For the good of the alliance between our kingdoms, I accept your apology, my lord," Allard says coolly.

_Probably the best I'm going to get at this point,_ Arthur thinks, and he takes a deep breath. "You have my most heartfelt thanks, Prince Allard, and I do hope to gain your trust and perhaps even friendship, with time."

"We shall see," Allard replies, reaching for his goblet.

Annis motions to the servants, and plates are deposited in front of the diners, Annis and Guinevere first.

"Arthur, will you make introductions?" Annis asks.

"Yes, forgive me," Arthur says. He turns toward Gwen. "Prince Allard, Prince Garret, may I present my wife, Queen Guinevere."

"Pleased to meet you, my lady," Garret says.

"It is an honor, my lady," Allard says, actually smiling in her direction.

_Keep an eye on that one,_ Arthur thinks, _he is indeed a puzzle._

She smiles and says, "Gwen, if you please, Sir Knights. And the honor is mine, I assure you."

Garret smiles. "The rumors of your beauty do not do you justice, my lady. Gwen."

"Thank you," she says with a shy smile. _Are there really rumors about me?_

"And two of my top knights, Sir Gwaine and Sir Elyan," Arthur points to the knights. They nod respectfully to the princes.

"Welcome, Knights," Garret says, while Allard nods his agreement.

They finally turn their attention to their dinners, and Gwen cannot help but think that they do actually smell good. _I must be hungry again, if that greasy duck smells good,_ she thinks, but then she remembers her discomfort dressing, and sighs, thinking she really should take better care.

There is an awkward silence for a few moments, the only sounds being those of cutlery scraping against plates and goblets hitting the tabletop. No one quite knows how to move past the tension Allard has created with Arthur.

Annis, as hostess, takes the lead. "Did you have a pleasant journey?"

"Well, mostly," Arthur says between bites. "Very good duck, my lady."

"Thank you. Did you encounter some trouble on the way? Bandits?" she asks, glancing at Gwen for a moment.

"Not exactly. We were, ah, ambushed by someone who I hope is a common enemy."

"Morgana Pendragon," the queen guesses.

"Agents of hers, we believe."

"So she does yet live," Allard muses quietly, his expression still dark.

"We, ah… we believe so," Arthur says, going on to explain some of the recent events without going into too much detail, of course, ending with the attack at lunchtime.

"This Lord Roderick appears to be an imbecile of the worst kind," Queen Annis observes, and Arthur hears Merlin choke back a snicker behind him.

"Indeed," Guinevere says, chuckling herself.

"And none of you were injured in this attack?" Garret asks.

"None. These men posing as Odin's were undisciplined hired thugs, nothing more," Gwaine chimes in.

"Gwen, have you any training in combat?" Annis asks her.

"Not _yet,_ my lady," she looks pointedly at Arthur, "but I'm finding that I am becoming very adept with my little dagger here." She pats it.

"Yes, Gwen was brilliant, the way she stabbed that slimy Bertrand in the hand to get him to release her," Elyan says. Annis gives him a puzzled look and then looks at Gwen as if to say _you let your knights address you so familiarly?_

Elyan notices this and catches himself. "Sorry… I mean…"

"It's all right, Elyan," Gwen says, then turns to Annis. "Annis, Sir Elyan is my brother. Occasionally he forgets himself, and I cannot say that I blame him. He's been my brother much longer than I have been queen, you know," she smiles.

Annis looks from Gwen's face to Elyan's, and back. "Yes. You have the same eyes."

"Our mother's eyes, my lady," Gwen says. "It is the only thing we have in common," she chuckles.

"We both have Father's stubbornness, my lady," Elyan says, raising his goblet to his sister, and she laughs.

"Your father must be very proud of you both," Annis says. "His son a knight and his daughter now queen."

"I'm sure he would be, my lady, if he were yet living," Gwen says quietly.

"Oh, I am terribly sorry," Annis says.

"It's all right. You did not know. He's been gone just over five years now."

"And your mother?"

"She died when we were both little more than children," Gwen says.

"What did your father do?" Annis steers the conversation in a different direction. She finds she is curious about this young woman. _I've heard snatches of information, but who is to say what is rumor and what is truth?_

"My father was a blacksmith, as was my brother before he became a knight." She nods in Elyan's direction. "Mother was a maid in the family home of one of our knights, Sir Leon."

"Very interesting," Annis says, her heart going out to the young woman. _She has led a fascinating life already for one so young,_ she thinks.

"Perhaps if you inform Odin that Morgana and Lord Roderick tried to sully his name by having thugs pose as his men, we can collect another ally against the witch," Garret suggests.

"The thought had occurred to me, yes," Arthur says, taking a drink from his goblet. Beside him he notices Guinevere stifle another yawn. He looks at her and she smiles. _I'm fine._

"First we must make peace with the man, then we can try and sway him on more… _tactical_ matters," Gwen suggests.

"Indeed, my lady," Allard nods in her direction, impressed.

_He is cold to me, but quite kind to Guinevere. Definitely have to watch this one._

Annis continues to watch Gwen. _And wise besides. No wonder the young king made her his queen,_ she thinks.

They eat silently for a few moments. Servants wait upon them, refilling goblets and clearing away bones.

"It seems you'll be doing a lot of apologizing during your visit to Caerleon, my lord," Allard finally speaks directly to Arthur.

"Hmm?" Arthur asks, taken off guard by the cold prince.

"King Odin. Isn't his dislike of you based on the fact that you killed his son?"

Arthur sighs. "Yes, but there is more to the story than that."

"Allard, tomorrow is the time for that discussion, my son. Tonight we make polite conversation and make our guests feel welcome," Annis says pointedly.

xXx

They have finished their meals and Annis motions to the servants to bring dessert, poached pears in honey syrup. Gwaine and Elyan both look like little boys given a prize, and Gwen chuckles at them as she digs her spoon in, the soft flesh of the pear yielding easily to its blunt edge.

"This is excellent, Annis, your cooks are to be commended," Arthur says after one bite.

"Thank you, Arthur. I have always been somewhat _particular_ about my food, so I keep a close watch on what happens in my kitchens," she admits, smiling.

Gwen stifles another yawn, embarrassed.

"Did you not get an opportunity to rest, my dear?" Annis asks.

"I did, actually. Forgive me, I'm terribly embarrassed," she says.

"Do not concern yourself with it, we are not that exciting, I'm afraid," Garret jokes.

"Well, I can perhaps lend a hand in—" Gwaine starts with a smirk.

"Gwaine…" Arthur interrupts, trying not to smile.

Gwaine holds his hands up in surrender, spoon clutched in one hand. "Just thought I'd offer."

Gwen only finishes half of her pear. _Had I known there was dessert I wouldn't have eaten so much of that blasted duck._ Elyan and Gwaine are eyeing her leftovers, and Gwen pushes her plate to her brother, who cuts the remainder in half and splits it with his fellow knight.

"Thanks," Elyan says.

"You men are so transparent," she says, leaning back in her chair.

Arthur glances at her. He is enjoying the conversation, but he wants his wife to get the sleep she clearly needs.

"Gwen, if you wish to retire, you need not stay up on our account," Annis suggests helpfully. "In fact, I was thinking of retiring as well. I'm an old woman; I cannot stay up as late as I once could," she says with a smile.

"You are not so old, mother," Allard flatters.

"And you are not so clever as you believe," she stands, and her sons stand respectfully as well. Arthur and the knights follow suit.

"You do not mind?" Gwen stands and asks Arthur.

"I can come, too," he says.

"No, you are enjoying yourself. Stay and get to know the princes. Their support and friendship is important to us." She leans in close. "Try to mend this rift with Allard," she says quietly.

"You are too wise, my love," he leans over to kiss her briefly on the lips, then raises her fingers to his lips. "Goodnight, I'll be along shortly."

"Goodnight, Arthur," she says quietly. "I bid you all goodnight, and thank you for an enjoyable meal," she says to the rest of the room.

Annis kisses her sons' cheeks and the two queens exit the hall together.

"I'm sure Garret will call for ale now that it is just the men," Annis comments as they walk down the corridor. The sound of laughter floats from the hall.

"In that case he will find a strong friend in Sir Gwaine," Gwen chuckles.

"Likes his drink?" Annis raises an eyebrow.

"Well, nothing like I made it sound. He's a bit of a… good-hearted scoundrel, if that makes any sense. He's an excellent knight and his heart is true. But he is…"

"A naughty child?" Annis supplies.

Gwen laughs. "Yes," she nods, "that's about correct, yes."

They walk towards Gwen and Arthur's room, quiet for a few moments.

"So, exactly how far along are you, dear?" Annis asks suddenly.

"Far along with what?"

They stop walking. "You are with child, are you not?" Annis looks down at Gwen kindly.

The younger queen's eyes widen. _Wait. When was my last… Heavens. It was… before we found out about the bracelet._ She remembers that conversation with Arthur. _Surely it hasn't been that long… Oh my. It has._ "I… I guess I must be…" she finally says, her eyes darting as if they are searching for an explanation written on the walls around them.

"Oh! I am sorry; I didn't realize you were unaware! I did not intend to alarm you," Queen Annis says, taking Gwen's hand in hers once again.

They are close to Gwen's door, and head that way. "Please, will you come in and talk for a few minutes?" Gwen asks, still looking a little spooked by her revelation.

"Of course," Annis says, not surprised at all by the request.

"In all the uproar of preparing for this meeting and this journey, I lost track of the weeks," Gwen says, sitting heavily in a chair.

"That does happen," Annis says. _Happened to me on more than one occasion._

"Annis?"

"Yes?"

"How… how did you know? That I was with child?"

Annis smiles. "You are inexplicably tired, yes?"

Gwen nods.

"Have you been ill at all, particularly in the morning?"

"No. I have been… rather hungrier than usual, though," she says, furrowing her brow.

"Sometimes it goes that way. Your child is hungry, and that is good," she smiles again. "And I assume your bodice is not usually so… snug?"

Gwen looks down. "Oh, goodness!" she says, clapping her hands over her cleavage, which is heaving a bit more than usual.

Annis laughs. "I'm afraid my sons _may_ have noticed that little detail. I caught them looking once or twice, sorry."

Gwen blushes and brings her hand do her face.

"Gwen, I am mother to four strong sons and two beautiful daughters. I am also grandmother of four. I've been there."

Gwen smiles, recovering from her embarrassment. "Only two were at dinner, where are the other four? If I may ask."

"Wymer and Harding are out questing, trying to prove their worth. I do not expect them back for several more weeks," she says, a brief look of motherly worry crossing her face. "My daughters, Daralis and Rhoswen, are with their husbands in their new homes. They visit when they can, and that's when I get to see my precious grandchildren," she smiles.

"I am sorry we did not get to meet them all."

"Perhaps another time," she says. "I hope to visit Camelot some day, and I do hope that you and Arthur will not be strangers to Caerleon."

"Well, you must come visit once the child is born," Gwen says with a smile. The smile fades quickly, though, as the full realization of her condition hits her and her eyes again grow wide. She bites her lower lip slightly.

"Do not be worried, my dear. This is a happy occasion, after all," Annis tells her, patting her hand.

"It's just the surprise of it… and I feel foolish because I usually keep better track of my courses. Not to mention the ambush this noon…"

"Would you like me to have my court physician attend you?" she asks.

"That's very thoughtful, but… um, I think it would probably be better if Arthur not know about this right now. He doesn't need the distraction, nor does he need the worry as we travel back to Camelot."

"And what you mean by that is _you_ don't need him smothering you with his concern while you travel back to Camelot," Annis laughs.

Gwen laughs with her, surprised at the queen's quick wit and warm personality. _The imposing queen is just a persona she wears._ "Is his protective nature that obvious?" she asks.

"Plain as day, Gwen," she says, then sighs. "Very well, I will keep your secret, as it is yours to share with your husband. However," she adds, "if you are feeling unwell in any way, I'm sure we could arrange a meeting with my physician without Arthur's knowledge if that is what you wish."

"I will keep that in mind, my lady, thank you."

"You know, I did think it curious that Arthur would allow you to travel," Annis says.

"Oh, goodness, if he even _suspected,_ I would still be back in Camelot with a half-dozen maids hovering over me," she laughs. "I had to argue to get to come anyway. He wasn't sure I should."

"I'm glad you won that argument, Gwen. I was in earnest when I wrote that I was looking forward to meeting you. I was quite curious to see what kind of woman it was that could make the young king toss aside years of tradition in favor of following his heart."

"Just a simple maid, nothing more," Gwen says with a shrug.

"Guinevere, do not sell yourself short. You may have been a maid, but it is clear to me that you are anything but simple. Humble, yes, but simple? Never. You have the makings of greatness within you. Being queen is more than just being a decoration on the king's arm."

Gwen nods; Arthur has said much the same thing on several occasions now.

"And you are in the very fortunate position of having been one of 'the people.' Be their champion, Gwen. Look after them; they are your children as well, you know."

Gwen's hand strays to her stomach and she nods again, soaking in Annis' words like nourishment.

"I do see that you are already quite adept at, shall we say, reining in Arthur's more… arrogant qualities?"

Gwen chuckles at this. "I've been doing that for many years now, my lady."

"One day I should like to hear all about your history with Arthur, Gwen. I'm sure it is quite the story. But as I was saying, one of the lesser-known responsibilities of the queen is to _keep the king in line._ Men are little more than large children, you know," Annis smiles again. "They need a gentle hand guiding them while they run about conquering the world. A _subtle_ hand. I see this quality in you, my dear. You have the rare fortune of marrying a king who chose you for love, not for strategy or politics. You do not have to try and gain his love or earn his respect. He wears his love and respect for you like a garment; all can see it. This gives you power, Gwen. Use it wisely."

"Thank you, Annis, for your counsel. I was hoping that I could learn from you, and I am not disappointed. Thank you."

"I have been queen a very long time, and now I rule alone over a kingdom that was a fledgling when I first arrived. All I can do is make certain that Allard is prepared to rule once I am gone. And if I can help pave the way for him by forging strong alliances and friendships, I will," she says proudly. Then she adds, almost a joking afterthought, "You don't know of any Ladies in Camelot looking for husbands, do you?"

"I will keep my eyes open, my lady," Gwen laughs.

"Good. I've got four eligible princes, you know," she sighs.

Gwen's mind drifts to the Princesses Elana, Vivian, and Mithian, and she wonders what's become of them. _Perhaps not Vivian…_ She decides to keep her mouth closed on the issue for now, and smiles at Annis.

"But you are still tired," Annis remembers. "I will send in Norah to attend you." She stands.

"Thank you, but that isn't necessary. Honest. I just want to crawl into bed, the sooner, the better."

Annis angles her head at Gwen.

"Really. I'll be fine."

Annis sighs. "Very well. I'll let it slide just this once," she smiles and takes Gwen's hand.

"Thank you again, Annis. Your counsel means a lot to me. Good motherly advice is not something I receive often, so when I do, I treasure it."

"I like you, Gwen. You are, as Arthur said, wise with a good heart. Do not let that change and you will be a fine queen."

"Goodnight," Annis says, opening the door and stepping out.

"Goodnight, Annis."

Gwen closes the door, quickly undoes her hair and undresses, slipping on a linen nightdress in the hopes that Arthur will let her sleep whenever he returns. _Not that I don't enjoy my wifely responsibilities; I'm simply exhausted._

She leaves a couple candles burning for him to see by and crawls into the bed, snuggling deep down into the blankets. She falls asleep almost immediately.

xXx

"She did _what?_" Allard asks, aghast. The ale has been flowing freely, and his attitude has loosened somewhat. Arthur has taken advantage of Allard's interest in Guinevere to get into the man's good graces: he plies him with tales of her courage.

"She threatened to cut off his manhood," Arthur answers calmly, taking a drink.

The other four men fall about laughing at this, impressed at the petite queen's fortitude.

"At least that's what she told me," Arthur adds with a shrug.

"Oh, I'm sure she spoke the truth," Elyan says. "She's a spitfire when she's mad, believe me."

"Oh yeah, Elyan here would know more than anyone!" Gwaine slaps him on the back.

"Now, now, we don't need to air old family secrets," Garret says. "Disrespectful to your queen, that is."

"Thank you, my lord," Elyan says gratefully.

"I have two older sisters, Elyan," he nods understanding.

"Do you?" Gwaine asks, suddenly interested.

"Yes, there are two sisters between Garret and myself," Allard explains, "and two more brothers after him."

"Tell me about the sisters," Gwaine leans forward.

Allard leans forward as well. "Well, for starters, they're both married."

"Ah. Yes. Well. Never mind, then," Gwaine says, and they all laugh.

"Oh— and then at the ambush today she stabbed the very same man in the hand," Arthur continues, since the topic of princesses has been dropped.

"Good for her," Garret commends, hoisting his mug in a toast.

"Yeah, then when he let her go she turned around and thrust her knee into his soft parts," Gwaine adds, proud of his friend the queen.

Allard chokes on his ale, spraying it across the table. Arthur is hit squarely with a shower of lukewarm liquid.

The room falls silent as the two men stare at each other. Merlin steps forward, ready to intercept anything.

Arthur suddenly bursts forth laughing, wiping the moisture from his face. He leans back in his chair and clutches his hand to his ribs as the rest of the men join the merriment. Merlin heaves a sigh of relief and hands Arthur a napkin.

"Thank you, Merlin," he says. Then he spins around in his seat and looks at his servant. "Merlin, would you sit down? I hate you hovering back there like… like a…"

"Yes?" Merlin asks politely.

"Like a great… hovering thing," Arthur finishes weakly, waving his hand in the air vaguely before taking another swig of ale.

"Yes, Merlin, sit," Elyan adds. "You've been standing all night."

Allard and Garret exchange a puzzled glance at their kind treatment of the king's servant, but shrug it off and lift their mugs.

_You had better hope Gwen is asleep when you get back to your room,_ Merlin thinks. He sits, but drinks nothing. He pretends not to notice Gwaine sneak a look in his direction.

"You have two more brothers, then?" Arthur asks. "Where are they?"

"Questing," Garret says, sitting up straight and announcing the word with a flourish.

"Together?"

"No, just at the same time. Mother isn't pleased about that," he chuckles.

"For what do they quest?" Arthur asks.

"Wymer is looking for the Cup of Life," Allard says, rolling his eyes, "if it even exists."

Merlin and Arthur exchange a glance, but say nothing.

"And Harding is searching for a white dragon."

"A white dragon? Is he mad?" Arthur asks.

Merlin keeps his face carefully passive. It is a skill he has learned to master over the years.

"Think so, yeah," Garret replies. "He _heard_ tales of sightings of a white dragon, small, near the mountains."

"What will he do with it if he finds it?" Merlin asks.

"I think he plans to capture it. What he plans to do with it if he succeeds is beyond me."

"If there even are any dragons left in the world, somehow I don't think they would take kindly to being detained. Just a thought," Merlin says, picking at his fingernails casually.

"Well, he's not going to find anything anyway, so it doesn't matter, does it?" Allard says, laughing and slapping Merlin on the shoulder.

Merlin attempts a weak laugh, "Right."


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: The fabulous Anaisnine requested I give a shout-out to another good fic that isn't getting enough attention. If you haven't checked out "Children of Avalon" (books 1 and 2), do so. It's quite good. Book 1 is complete, and book 2 is just begun. I also recommend "My Love, My Secret," "The Longest Day," and "The Empty House." Excellent fics all.**

"Ssshhh, Merlin! Guinevere is probably sleeping," Arthur whispers loudly as he stumbles through the door, Merlin at his elbow.

"Yes, Sire," Merlin says dutifully, not commenting on the fact that Arthur is the one making all the noise and that he has been quiet as a mouse.

Merlin closes the door silently and helps Arthur undress. _He's not that far gone, but gone enough,_ Merlin observes, noting the king is still able to bend and remove his boots without tipping over.

Arthur catches sight of Gwen sleeping, and he stops and stands, gazing down at her. "Aw, look at her, Merlin. So peaceful."

"Yes, Sire," Merlin answers, not looking. _Not really proper for me to look upon the sleeping form of the queen, even if she is one of my best friends._

"She's so beautiful," he drawls on, grinning like a silly child. He turns to look at Merlin again. "I really love her, you know that, Merlin?"

"Yes, Sire, I do." _I knew it before you did, Clotpole._ "Goodnight, Arthur." Merlin nods and leaves Arthur to stumble to the bed on his own.

Arthur flops down on the bed and the mattress heaves under his weight. Gwen stirs slightly, and Arthur whispers, "Sorry."

She doesn't wake, just snuggles back in, cuddling the blankets clutched in her hands under her chin.

_I can't wake her. She's sleeping too well. And I'm a little drunker than she'd probably like me to be._

Arthur nestles in under the covers and spoons up behind her, pulling her back against him, holding her.

Gwen sighs in her sleep and shifts slightly, settling in against him. He scowls at the nightdress blocking him from being able to feel her skin beneath his hands, but closes his eyes nevertheless.

_Perhaps we'll have some time in the morning._

xXx

Merlin walks the corridors of Caerleon Castle, heading for the servants' quarters, where he is to bunk for the night.

"Merlin," a voice calls from the shadows. Merlin stops.

_I know that voice._ "Gwaine," he replies.

Gwaine steps into view, his face uncharacteristically serious. "Walk with me, Merlin," he says, strolling past.

"Okay," Merlin says, heart thumping just a little. _He's been giving me odd looks ever since I dropped that tree branch on Bertrand…_

The two men walk out into the courtyard, where they can speak without risk of being overheard.

"What's on your mind, Gwaine?" Merlin finally asks.

"I saw what you did, Merlin," Gwaine says simply.

_I'm not giving anything away._ "Saw what?"

"I saw you make that branch fall on Bertrand's head during the ambush." Gwaine turns and looks squarely at Merlin. "You used magic, Merlin. I saw it."

"Are you going to arrest me?" Merlin challenges.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I know you did it to save Gwen." He pauses. "Plus, then _I_ would have to tell Arthur," he raises his eyebrow.

"Right." Merlin sits on a nearby bench, his head in his hands.

"I… I don't understand, Merlin. How? Why?"

"I was born with it, Gwaine. It is part of me, part of who I am. It's a blessing and a curse, and I cannot turn it off. All I can do is control myself. Control how and when I use it."

"You shouldn't use it at all. It's illegal."

Merlin looks up at him.

"I know, I know, it's not as simple as that," Gwaine allows, sitting beside him.

"Does anyone else know? Does Gwen know?"

"No, Gwen doesn't know. But Gaius knows. My mother knows, of course. Lancelot knew."

"Lancelot, really?"

Merlin nods. "Long story. He had been around many years ago, shortly after I arrived here. He'd known since then."

They sit quietly.

"You should tell him. Tell Arthur."

"That's what I was trying to do with that branch. I, um, actually wanted _him_ to see, not you."

"Truly?"

Merlin nods. "Arthur wants me to be his personal advisor. He asked me last night. Well, he didn't really _ask…_"

Gwaine chuckles. "And you told him no, I take it."

Merlin nods.

"Because of this secret of yours."

He nods again. "Gwen asked me to think on it some more and give my answer when we return. I don't know what to do. I don't feel I can accept the post and keep my secret. But I want him to know that magic is not all evil. We're not all Morganas or Morgauses." He turns and looks at Gwaine. "I swear to you, Gwaine, I have never used my magic for evil. Never."

"I believe you, Merlin. But it's not me you have to convince."

"I know. I've been carrying this weight for too long. I'm actually relieved that someone else knows, now. And I'm glad it's you."

"Thank you, Merlin. I won't say anything, I promise. But only if you promise me that you'll tell Arthur." Gwaine looks at him hard.

"I'm trying to figure out how to do that. I thought I had figured out how, but that backfired," he says, pulling a loose thread from his sleeve. It unravels the seam a bit, and he curses softly. "Now I'll have to mend this."

"So mend it," Gwaine says, a challenge in his voice.

Merlin looks at him, perplexed. "What?"

"I want to see. Fix your sleeve. I'm sure it can't be more difficult than making a large branch fall from a tree."

Merlin looks around. They are alone. He looks up to the windows of the castle. Dark. He sighs, looks down at his sleeve, and mutters a couple words. His eyes flash gold and the loose thread winds its way back through, joining the ends of the material together again.

"Easy as pie, hey?" Gwaine says. Merlin shrugs.

"Yeah. Something as simple as that, I can do with hardly an effort."

"Have you ever… killed anyone? Using magic?"

Merlin pauses. "Yes. But only when I had to, please understand."

"You said you never used your magic for evil, and I believe you, Merlin. I honestly cannot imagine you doing anything evil to anyone, ever," he chuckles.

"Agravaine. I killed him," Merlin says simply. _He is the first person I've told._

"Really? Good on you, Merlin!" Gwaine slaps his back, but Merlin finds no joy in his act.

"Is it? A life is still a life, Gwaine, even if it is a despicable one." Merlin kicks at some rocks under his feet.

"Well, if anyone deserved it, it was Agravaine, that's all I'm saying."

They sit silently for another minute.

"What am I going to do, Gwaine? I want to tell Arthur, or show him, I _really_ do. But I'd be risking my life."

"Arthur trusts you," Gwaine says.

"But that's exactly the problem, don't you see?" Merlin yells, arms flailing in frustration. "He _trusts_ me. Unconditionally. And here I am, lying to him. _All the time._ All these years." He drops his head to his hands again, bunching his hair in his hands.

"Merlin, despite what most people think about me, I'm not just some carefree scoundrel who likes a good fight and a good drink. I know people. I can read them; I know how their minds work. How do you think I've managed to survive so long with this mouth of mine?" he chuckles. "And I know this: Arthur loves you like a brother. He does. And Gwen does, too. If anyone can convince him that magic isn't all bad, it's you."

xXx

Arthur stirs in his sleep, reaching out for Gwen and finding only sheets. He opens his eyes. "Guinevere?" he asks sleepily. It appears to be just before dawn, the light pale and ghostly.

"I'm here, Arthur," her voice floats over to him.

"Is everything all right?" he asks, leaning up on an elbow, looking for her.

"I had a basic matter that needed attention, my lord," she says vaguely, appearing from behind a screen at one end of the room.

_Had to pee,_ Arthur thinks, flopping back down onto the pillow as she climbs back in beside him.

He pulls her into his arms and she rests her head on his shoulder. His fingers find the material of her nightdress, picking at it.

"I know, you'd rather I not have this on," she mutters into his shoulder.

He chuckles, a low rumble in his chest. His hand trails to her chin, lifting her face to his, and he brushes his lips against hers once, softly.

"I was not really in a fit state when I came to bed last night anyway," he mutters, kissing her again, his hand creeping around behind her neck.

"I had a feeling," she whispers back, her hand caressing his chest.

"This morning, however," he says quietly, kissing her again, "I am feeling _quite_ fit." His lips drop to hers again, pressing firmly, persuasively, his tongue sliding forward between her lips, which part automatically for him as his hand slides down her side, pulling at her nightdress.

"I see that," Gwen says hoarsely as his lips leave hers to nibble her ear, her hand moving down below his waist, finding him hard and wanting. She grasps him and he inhales sharply.

"All right, you," he says, his voice a warning tease. He sits up, pulling her with him, and yanks the nightdress off over her head as she giggles.

He lies back down, pushing her back gently beneath him so he can surround her with himself. _I love the feel of her beneath me,_ he thinks, descending onto her, sucking at her neck as she gasps, her fingers feather-light on his back.

Arthur kisses lower, down to her breasts. He takes one in his hand, squeezing it gently, running his thumb across the nipple.

Gwen gasps a little louder, and he smiles, not realizing that it wasn't exactly a gasp of pleasure. "Arthur," she breathes, "gently, Love."

_Gently?_ "As you command, my queen," he mutters against her breast, his tongue running lazily across her nipple, making her gasp again.

She closes her eyes and finds herself wondering if Arthur will notice that her breasts are slightly fuller than normal. Then his fingers stroke her inner thigh, coaxing her legs apart, and all thoughts leave her head as he touches her, drawing forth a moan.

Arthur lavishes her with kisses, between her breasts, down to her stomach, where he scatters light kisses across the soft but taut skin there, before climbing back up again to her other breast.

Gwen bends her knee, raising her thigh to brush against his manhood. Arthur groans in the back of his throat and she reaches down to take him in her hand again, softly, taunting him with the gentle contact.

"Guinevere, don't tease," he growls seductively into her neck as he makes his way back to her waiting lips.

"Very well," she answers, tightening her fingers suddenly.

"Oh!" he grunts, body jerking just slightly. His head falls against her shoulder for a second before he readjusts his position, crawling between her parted thighs. He drops his hips and lets her guide him into her. He enters slowly, following her earlier instruction of "gently."

She moans quietly as he slides in, unconsciously curling a leg around him as he moves. Arthur finds her lips with his, nibbling softly at them before claiming them as his, tongue delving in again, mirroring the motions of his languid thrusts, taking his time, drawing out the sensations for them both.

Gwen's hands find their way into his hair, feeling the silken threads slide between her slender fingers as she rakes her hands through them. Arthur moves once again to kiss her neck, her collarbone, her throat, and she sighs again.

He reaches his hand down to grip her thigh, sliding up its silken length to her hip as he buries himself deep within her.

"Guinevere…" he breathes into her neck, the word a whispered prayer.

She skims her hands down his shoulders and chest before wrapping her arms around him, pulling him as close as she can while still allowing him to move.

Arthur watches her, her skin taking on a rosy flush as she grows warm with the desire building within her. She squirms slightly, her head tossing to the side. He takes advantage of this, biting her exposed neck lightly before flicking his tongue against the skin there.

"Mmm… oh… oh…" Gwen starts to moan, and Arthur decides it's time to pick up the pace.

He increases his tempo, but nothing else, sliding easily as he finds her breast again with his lips, his tongue, and she cries out softly, clinging to him as she arches her back and digs her nails into his muscled back.

Grinning, Arthur kisses her parted lips once as he continues to his own climax, not far off. Gwen eases her grip on his back, rubbing her hands against the spots where her nails dug in, soothing them, even though she knows he doesn't mind the slight abuse. She gazes up at his face, watching his mouth, his closed eyes, his determined passion visible there. _He is a beautiful man,_ she thinks, and reaches up to stroke his cheek with her fingertips.

Arthur opens his eyes at her touch and looks down at her. Their eyes lock on each other as he comes, the sensation forcing his eyes closed again as he rushes into her, turning his face into her hand, delivering a long groan into Guinevere's palm.

He drops carefully over her and immediately rolls to the side, pulling her with him.

"Good morning, Wife," he says, kissing the top of her head.

"Good morning, Husband," she answers, kissing his chest and closing her eyes. _I could go back to sleep,_ she realizes, and allows herself to drift and doze in Arthur's arms.

"Guinevere."

She doesn't know how much time has passed or if she fell back to sleep or not, but Arthur's voice registers, drawing her back to reality again.

"Guinevere?"

"Hmm?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" she mumbles against his chest, eyes still closed.

"Love, I may be somewhat ignorant about the, um _inner workings_ of a woman, but I do know how to count," he says quietly, his hand straying to rest on her stomach.

Gwen's eyes fly open. "Arthur—" she starts to explain.

"I'm not angry, Love," he says kindly, feeling her body tense in his arms. She softens again.

"I did not realize it myself, honestly," she says.

"Really?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"So… so I'm right? You are?"

"Apparently so," she says, looking up to see him gazing intently down at her. _Are those tears in his eyes? They are, bless his heart._

He kisses her suddenly, intensely, his arms tight around her.

"So how exactly did you figure it out?" she asks once he releases her lips. She is quite curious how he worked it out when she did not even see it herself.

"Well…" he says, grinning sheepishly. His hand moves to cover one of her breasts. "_These_ seem to have been getting, um, larger, lately."

Gwen laughs at the blush that creeps across his cheeks.

"And then you gasped and I thought it was because you were enjoying yourself."

"I was."

"But then you asked me to be gentle, which you never do."

Gwen's brows furrow. _He was thinking all this in the midst of…?_

As if he has read her thoughts, he chuckles and says, "Trust me, I didn't put these pieces together until _after._"

"I was wondering," she laughs as well.

"Then somehow I thought of our conversation that day," he says. He doesn't need to explain _which_ day. "And I did some counting, based on what little information I had. I figured since you refer to it as your 'monthly,' well…" he trails off.

"Yes," she says simply, acknowledging that he figured correctly.

"So then I counted. And counted again. And a third time. Then I remembered your hunger. And the, um, needing to heed the call of nature rather more than usual."

"It appears you do indeed know me better than I know myself, Arthur," she laughs.

"How did you not know?"

"I lost track of the weeks in the flurry of activity while planning this trip. I just learned of my condition last night, in fact. Annis told me."

"She _told_ you?" Arthur is amused by this.

"Pretty much, yes. The woman has six children, Arthur, and she is very smart and very observant."

"Indeed."

"We actually had a lovely talk last night after we left you," she says, curling into his side again, still sleepy.

"You can tell me about it later," he says, kissing the top of her head again.

Arthur holds her, hands idly caressing her skin, a large smile plastered across his face, pleased at how quickly they were able to conceive a child; a possible heir. _We really shouldn't be that surprised, though, considering how often we've been coupling lately,_ he thinks, his smile changing to a delicious grin.

Then he remembers yesterday and the smile drops from his face and he sits bolt upright in the bed.

"Oh!" Gwen exclaims, dropping over to her own pillow.

"Guinevere! Yesterday… the ambush! Are… are you sure…?" he looks down at her and asks, his voice panicked.

She smiles at his concern. "I'm fairly certain I am fine, Arthur. We both are, I mean."

"How do you know?"

"Well, I've seen no signs of any… trouble. There hasn't been any blood, and other than being tired and hungry all the time, I feel fine."

He scowls, not convinced. "But Bernard…"

"Bertrand," she corrects.

"Whatever. He… he _accosted_ you."

"He grabbed me, taking me by surprise, and held a sword to my throat."

"As I said."

"Arthur," she sits up, holding the blankets around her, "he didn't strike me or injure me in any way. Which is more than I can say for my treatment of him." She smirks, and he manages a weak smile.

She reaches her arms out and pulls him down, so they are lying together again. She sighs. "However, if you insist, Annis has offered to let me be seen by her court physician. Would this ease your mind?"

"Yes."

"Now," she says, snuggling against him again. "It is very early. May I go back to sleep, or are you planning on having any more outbursts?"

xXx

"Good morning," Merlin says to Norah, who has just approached. Merlin is sitting on the floor outside Arthur and Guinevere's room.

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" Norah asks. "Sorry, good morning," she adds, blushing, flustered.

"Unless specifically instructed, I don't attend King Arthur until that door is unlocked," he says, hooking his thumb at the door.

"Oh." She does not need to ask why. _They are still newlyweds._

Merlin pats the stone floor next to him. "Have a seat."

"I couldn't."

"Nonsense, pull up some floor."

"No, I… I should see to—"

She is interrupted by a _click._

"_Now_ I knock," Merlin says, standing. He knocks and the door is opened immediately by Guinevere, standing in her nightdress and dressing gown.

"Good morning, Merlin; Norah," Gwen steps aside so they may enter.

"My lady," Norah says quietly. _The king's manservant sees the queen so casually dressed?_ She sees out of the corner of her eye that Arthur is dressed in a pair of soft trousers and a simple white shirt, and breathes a sigh of relief.

"Norah, are you all right?" Gwen asks.

"Forgive me, my lady, I am… not accustomed to shared quarters."

Gwen smiles. "It's all right. I imagine you are shocked that Merlin sees me dressed as such?"

Norah nods. "Sorry, my lady."

Gwen puts her hand on the maid's shoulder. "First, stop apologizing, you are doing nothing wrong. Second, it _is_ unusual, yes. But Merlin and I have known one another for a very long time, and I think of him like a brother."

Norah's eyes open wide at this, shocked.

"Were you unaware that I spent most of my life as a maidservant, just as you are?"

"I was aware, my lady, yes. It is all very confusing to me."

"Try living it some time," Gwen chuckles, drawing a smile from Norah. "It is a very long story. But do not fret about Merlin, or about Arthur, for that matter." She smiles, glancing over at her two favorite men participating in their usual bickering on the other side of the room. "We are an unusual group, but nothing scandalous is going on, I promise you."

"I never thought—"

"I didn't think you did, Norah. Simply trying to put your mind at ease," she says lightly, walking to the privacy screen. Norah scurries to the wardrobe to retrieve the lavender dress.

"You're very chipper this morning, Arthur," Merlin says, surprised. "I'd've thought you'd be feeling like the dog's breakfast today."

"Merlin," Arthur says, leaning over conspiratorially. He waves his hand at Merlin, beckoning him closer. "You'll never guess."

Merlin leans in. "What is it?"

"Guinevere's…" his eyes drift across the room where Gwen is changing behind the privacy screen.

"What about Gwen?"

"She's… we're…" Arthur says, hardly able to speak the words. He's been grinning like an idiot all morning.

Realization hits Merlin as Arthur struggles to form a complete sentence. His eyes pop wide open and he plunks down in the chair next to Arthur. "Really? _Really?_"

Arthur nods, still grinning. "But don't say anything. We don't want to make any announcements till she's had a chance to see Gaius. And the royal midwife." He stops, angling his head. "Do we have a royal midwife?"

"I'm certain we can find one, my lord," Merlin laughs. "Congratulations, Arthur, this is wonderful news," he adds, clapping Arthur on the shoulder companionably. "At least now I know why you've had that silly smile plastered across your face all morning."

"I have not," Arthur says, pursing his lips, trying to wrench his face back to normal. "Ouch, smiling hurts," he whines.

"That's because you don't do it enough. The muscles aren't used to such a workout," Merlin teases him as he pulls garments from the wardrobe for Arthur.

"My lady, I will be gentle with the lacing," Norah says quietly.

Gwen looks over her shoulder at the maid. "Don't tell me you figured it out, too," she moans.

"I had a suspicion. My mistress did inform me this morning, however, just so that I might take… appropriate care of you, my lady."

"You don't need to whisper, Norah. He knows."

"He does? But Queen Annis told me…"

"I know. I hadn't planned on telling him, but he figured it out for himself this morning," Gwen says.

"He _did?_ How on earth did he do that?"

Gwen bites her lip and blushes. "Um… I don't think you really want me to answer that question, Norah."

"Oh. _Oh._" Now it is Norah's turn to blush again, and she doesn't ask any more questions as she finishes lacing Gwen's dress.


	20. Chapter 20

"So Arthur, I am curious. If you'll pardon such a personal question, how is it that you chose to marry a maidservant?" Prince Allard asks as they eat their breakfast.

"Not at all," Arthur says, chuckling. "To be honest, it is nice to have someone question my decision based on curiosity rather than contempt."

"He is lobbying to be allowed to marry for love rather than politics as well, my lord," Annis says with a smirk, looking sideways at her eldest.

"Aha…" Arthur says thoughtfully. "I shall choose my answer carefully, then."

"I would prefer if you chose to answer truthfully, Arthur," Allard says with a grin.

"Well the truth is, my father was dead against it, so we kept our feelings secret for a long time. Father almost had her executed at one point, thinking that she had enchanted me with some sort of magic love potion. Accused her of being a witch, naturally, because he just couldn't fathom how I could love a maid."

"Uther was always quick to make such judgments," Annis comments.

"Not one of his better qualities, unfortunately," Arthur admits.

"So you knew you wanted her before you were even king?" Garret asks.

"Yes. She… she was the only person, well, _one_ of the only people who was willing to stand up to me and treat me like a real person instead of a prince."

"And you _wanted_ that? To be treated as though you were… _ordinary?_" Allard asks, as if this is a completely new concept to him.

"What I _want_ is for people to be honest with me. How am I to truly know if I

have any worth as a man or to the kingdom if everyone automatically agrees with everything I say based on the sole fact that I am their king?"

_Interesting indeed,_ Annis thinks, watching him. _They are both wise beyond their years. I look forward to watching Camelot grow under their rule._

"So an impertinent maid with a pretty nose catches your eye by doing what? Yelling at you?" Allard asks.

"That's about the size of it, yes," Arthur laughs, and Gwen blushes.

"I admit that I was definitely impertinent," she says. "But he _was_ acting a prat, and a royal one."

Allard and Garret laugh loudly at this.

"My lady, you were impertinent several times," he teases her, lifting her hand and kissing it.

"And you deserved it every time, my king."

Annis cannot help but smile at this petite maid who seems to have completely ensnared the heart of the king.

"I have learned much from Guinevere over these years," Arthur says. "I didn't want a mindless Lady who had nothing to offer apart from a pretty face and a fertile womb. I was not interested in someone who agreed with my every word. Guinevere is wise and loyal and brave and has the kindest heart of anyone I know. _That_ is why I made her my queen."

"And the fact that she is beautiful has no bearing?" Allard asks with a friendly smirk.

"Well, it certainly helps, doesn't it?" Arthur laughs.

"Who are the others?" Garret asks suddenly.

"Other what?" Arthur returns.

"You said that Gwen was _one of_ the only people willing to stand up to you. I'm curious as to whom the others are."

Arthur stabs a sausage with his fork and points it behind his head. "Him."

Merlin's head snaps up, caught off guard.

"Your servant?" Garret is stunned.

Arthur nods. "He is one of them, yes. He is also impertinent and stubborn and I wouldn't trade him."

"Pardon me, my lord, but did you not pass him off as a fool that night in my tent?" Annis arches an eyebrow at Arthur.

"Ah, yes… um, I may not have been entirely truthful about that. No disrespect intended, of course, my lady," he says, trying to talk his way out of a corner.

"Explain," Annis says.

"I merely said that to save his life. I hoped that if you thought him a simpleton who stumbled upon us you might be merciful. Plus I was angry with him for following me," he says, glaring back at Merlin.

Merlin smiles weakly. "Sorry," he says.

"I know now that he was merely looking after my well-being. He does that frequently, often without thought for his own safety or whether or not I actually _need looking after._" he says pointedly.

"But he is a loyal and trustworthy servant, my lady, and a true friend to us both," Gwen adds helpfully. "There are so few people that Arthur completely trusts in this world, and he does try to keep those few close at hand."

Arthur reaches over and puts his hand over Gwen's.

_Trust,_ Merlin thinks, feeling slightly ill. _There's that word again. That blessing and a curse I have placed squarely on my own head._ He glances over at Gwaine and sees the knight give him a sympathetic smile.

"Trust is indeed a rare commodity for a monarch," Annis says wisely. "You are shrewd to keep those you trust close to both your heart and your side."

"Thank you, my lady," Arthur says.

"I had suspected as much anyway," Annis finally admits.

"What, that Merlin wasn't a fool?" Arthur asks.

"When I saw him yesterday by the light of day, I could see that he was no fool," she says, glancing back at Merlin, who gives his thanks by nodding respectfully.

"Well, he does have his days," Arthur chuckles.

A page enters the hall and Annis looks up. "Yes?"

"King Odin's party has been spotted, my lady."

"Thank you. Allard, will you show Arthur and Guinevere to the council chambers? I must prepare to greet our guests."

"Of course, Mother, when they finish their breakfast."

Queen Annis makes to stand, and the men also stand respectfully.

"Annis," Gwen says softly, standing as well, catching her as she passes. "A word?"

"Of course, dear," she says, walking a few steps away for some privacy.

"The… offer you made last night. I should like to take you up on it."

Annis' eyebrows rise in slight surprise. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, I'm sure everything is fine. Arthur, on the other hand, would like reassurance," Gwen says with a sigh.

"You did tell him after all, then."

"No, he guessed," she says with a small smile.

Annis chuckles, then says, "I think perhaps I will send for the royal midwife. She will be able to give your husband better peace of mind than the physician."

"Thank you."

"Do not give it a thought." She smiles at the young queen and makes her exit.

Gwen sits back down beside Arthur and pats his hand. He takes her hand and lifts it to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

"What's going on?" Gwaine whispers to Elyan, noting the wordless conversation between Arthur and Gwen.

"No idea," Elyan answers behind his goblet.

"Too much bloody secrecy around here," Gwaine murmurs.

xXx

"King Arthur," Odin says coolly as he enters the council chambers. He is accompanied by one knight and a man who appears to be a council member.

Arthur and Gwen stand. "King Odin, thank you for agreeing to this meeting," Arthur says. He steps forward, extending his hand. Odin does not acknowledge it, walking past.

"Okay," Arthur says quietly and walks back to the table.

"You have brought no advisors, Arthur? Are you that arrogant?" Odin says incredulously, pausing in his course towards the table.

"I have brought my queen," Arthur nods in Gwen's direction. "That is the only counsel I require." He attempts a smile, then continues. "King Odin, my wife, Queen Guinevere."

Odin hadn't paid her much attention when he entered the hall, being too busy scowling at Arthur. He turns his eyes on Gwen now. She carefully extends her hand, and Odin takes it gently. "Queen Guinevere," he says quietly, studying her face. "Word had reached my kingdom about the maid that had captured the heart of the son of Uther Pendragon." He pauses and quirks his head to the side. "Perhaps the young king is not as foolish as I have thought him all these years." He lifts her hand and kisses it once before releasing it.

"It is an honor to meet you, King Odin. It is my fondest wish that the rift between our kingdoms be repaired and that we return to our homes each with a new ally," she says, curtseying—not too deeply—to Odin.

Arthur watches the exchange between Gwen and Odin with his mouth open. He looks at Merlin. _What the hell is going on here?_ Merlin shrugs helplessly.

"Please, let us sit," Queen Annis announces as she strides into the room. "Forgive my delay, I had a small matter to attend," she adds, glancing at Gwen and giving her a small nod.

They wait while Annis sits at the head of the table, followed by Guinevere. Merlin scoots her chair in as the men sit.

xXx

"You must know I did not intend to kill your son, Odin," Arthur says a second time. "He challenged me to a fight; I had to accept, even though I had no quarrel with him. I hardly knew him. But he laid down the challenge. Rules of chivalry."

"Rules of chivalry be hanged! You—" Odin starts, his voice raising.

"I _tried_ to convince him to withdraw!" Arthur interrupts, shouting. He continues, speaking normally again. "I begged him to withdraw. He… he wouldn't. He said something about needing to prove himself."

"Prove himself? To whom?"

"You, I imagine. Sons often go to great lengths to prove themselves worthy to their fathers, particularly if their fathers are powerful men. This I know," Arthur says.

"Do not pass this blame on to me, boy, _you_ were the one who dealt the blow!"

"Well, _your_ henchman succeeded in killing my father, so I'd say that puts us about even!" Arthur shouts back.

"Is that so? Well—"

Gwen slaps her hand down on the table and stands. "Enough!"

The room falls silent as several pairs of very surprised eyes turn to the petite form standing and glowering at them.

"Every person at this table knows that the death of another does not bring back the already dead. All it does is create another hole in another heart. You may think that it will make you feel better, but it doesn't. It _can't._"

"I will admit that I felt no joy at the news of Uther's death," Odin says quietly.

"We have all done things for which we feel regret. Things done hastily; things done out of ignorance or fear," Gwen says gently, taking her seat again.

Merlin steps forward and places his hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur turns and Merlin leans down and whispers something in his ear.

Arthur looks at him, his face questioning. Merlin nods encouragingly. Arthur sighs and nods. He turns back to face Odin.

"Throughout my young life, I have been responsible, both directly and indirectly, for the death of many men. Most of those deaths have been justified. But there are a handful that I regret. A handful that cause a pain in my heart when I think back on them." He speaks quietly, carefully, his voice edged with sadness. "Within this handful, there are three names are most prominent in my mind, three names for which if I could turn back the hands of time and change my actions on those days, I would. One is your son. The second is King Caerleon," he looks at Annis. She nods, noting the pain in his blue eyes. "And the third is Tom the blacksmith," Arthur looks at Gwen, who smiles sadly.

"Who is Tom the blacksmith?" Odin asks.

"My father," Gwen says quietly.

"You killed your own father-in-law?"

"He wasn't my father-in-law at the time. And I didn't kill him. But I could have stopped his execution. Or at least tried to convince my father to stop it. I was young. Afraid. Afraid of my father, afraid of his power, afraid of… of everything. Hiding behind my arrogance like a fool and a coward. And because of that, an innocent man, a _good_ man died."

"And you have forgiven him for this," Odin looks at Gwen.

"Yes."

"And I have forgiven him as well," Annis says quietly. "Odin, it is time. Surely you have one or two things done in your youth that you would take back if given the opportunity, yes?"

The chamber doors open a crack and Norah's face appears. Annis looks up at her and nods.

"Guinevere?" Annis says, indicating towards Norah.

"I beg you both pardon me, Sirs, I must take my leave," Gwen says. Merlin steps forward to pull out her chair. The men stand as she rises, her hand in Arthur's. He kisses her cheek.

"Behave yourself," she whispers to him and he smiles at her.

"You, too," he winks, releasing her hand.

"You have chosen your wife wisely, indeed, young Pendragon," Odin says once Gwen has left them.

Arthur inclines his head, curious. "You have no issue with the fact that she was not born of noble blood?"

"That young woman," Odin nods to the doors, "has more true nobility about her than any Lady I have met, present company excepted of course, your highness."

"Of course," Annis nods, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "And I agree. Far too much weight is given to birth and not enough to a person's true qualities, and I, for one, am glad to see King Arthur championing this new way of thinking."

"Arthur," Odin says, addressing him directly and familiarly for the first time. "Your words and the words of your queen have not fallen on deaf ears. Nor have they fallen on a heart of stone."

"Thank you, Odin."

"Do not thank me yet, I've done nothing deserving your thanks. The death of my son grieves me still, as I'm sure does the death of your father. But I agree: more death will not bring either man back. We must honor their memories by putting our hurts behind us and moving forward, as allies."

Arthur smiles.

"Now you may thank me," Odin's face cracks a small smile.

"Thank you, Odin. Allies, it is. Perhaps one day, friends, even." Arthur stands and extends his hand again. This time Odin stands and the men clasp one another's forearms.

"This pleases me. I am happy that the two of you have come to an accord," Annis says. "Now: Arthur, you had some _other_ information you wished to share with King Odin?"

"Ah, yes," Arthur says. "On our journey here yesterday, we were ambushed by a small band of men. Perhaps twelve. Now, we _know_ that it was a ruse, but these men were dressed in your colors, Odin."

"I sent no one!" Odin declares, his face going stony again.

Arthur holds his hands up, "Yes, I know that. They were hired thugs that another party wanted us to think were your men. We knew immediately that they were no knights; no soldiers."

Odin's advisor leans over and mutters something.

_Some advisor, he's said nothing until now,_ Arthur thinks wryly. _Even Merlin leant a hand, and he's not even my advisor. Yet._

"Apparently some of our tunics were stolen recently," Odin says.

"Indeed," Arthur nods.

"Who sent them? Do you know?"

"We are fairly sure that it was the Lady Morgana."

"The witch? She lives?"

"All evidence is pointing that way, yes. It was a sloppy effort, so I do not think the planning was hers. But it was orchestrated by one in her employ, we believe."

"How does she manage to find allies still?" Odin wonders, leaning back in his seat.

"Despite the fact that her hunger for power and revenge has twisted her mind, she is still crafty. And do not underestimate the power of her beauty; that alone still can sway many weak-minded men."

"Such as?"

"Lord Roderick of Clarence."

"That weed? He is as useless as a three-legged horse."

"Precisely why he aligns himself with Morgana. He undoubtedly thinks that he will gain some power by bowing before her."

"King Odin, we were hoping that we may add you to the ranks of those who stand against Morgana Pendragon and her dangerous grabs for power," Annis says, tired of this beating around the bush.

Odin ponders this for a moment. "Yes. Yes, I think so," he nods. "She is dangerous, and no good could come from her being in a position of power. You have my support, Arthur, Annis."

"Thank you, Odin," Arthur says, heaving a sigh. _I wonder how Guinevere's doing?_

Odin shakes his head. "Honestly. Sending out men disguised as mine to ambush you while you journey to make peace with me. Amateur," he remarks.

Arthur laughs, "That is exactly what we thought."

xXx

"Guinevere!" Arthur jogs down the corridor when he spots her. He grabs her and picks her up, spinning her in the air.

"Arthur, put me down!" she squeals, embarrassed, but she is laughing. He puts her down.

"Sorry, I probably shouldn't have… did I hurt you?" he asks, suddenly worried.

"I'm fine, it's just…" she trails off, looking down the corridor to where Annis and Odin are walking towards them.

"So everything's good then?" he asks softly, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"Yes, the midwife said I have nothing to worry about and can carry on with my usual activities."

"_All_ your usual activities?" he asks, smirking.

"Even that, yes," she laughs. "I'll tell you more later; they're getting closer now."

"Okay," he says, kissing her forehead. "And the meeting went well even after you left. He's forgiven me and has agreed to stand with us against Morgana should the need arise. _When_ the need arises, I should say. And I have you to thank for it."

"I did nothing," she says.

"You did everything, Love. Odin wasn't listening to me. He wouldn't listen to me. He only started listening when _you_ stood up and yelled at both of us."

"You were bickering like children."

"It seems the impertinent maid with the pretty nose wins over more than one noble by yelling at them," Arthur grins at her, running his finger down her nose, tapping the tip lightly just as Annis and Odin reach them.

"Ah, Queen Guinevere, you will be joining us for lunch, I hope?" Odin asks.

"Of course. I am sorry I had to leave the meeting. I had a personal matter to attend," she smiles at him, taking Arthur's arm. "And please, do call me Gwen," she adds.


	21. Chapter 21

_Bored,_ Gwen thinks, rolling to her side on the bed. She had decided to rest a bit after lunch. They are staying one more night in Caerleon, departing in the morning. Odin is not staying over, leaving after dinner.

The two kings, Prince Allard, and their knights have decided to discuss battle strategies and training. The knights are keen to spar with each other, and a few friendly match-ups are deemed not only educational but entertaining. So it was easy enough for Guinevere to beg off in search of a lie-down, especially because Annis has also left the men to their own devices to make her daily rounds of the castle.

_Tired, but I can't sleep._ She stands, walking to one of the windows. She sees Gwaine roundly defeating one of Odin's knights, laughing like the scamp that he is. Arthur and Odin look on, pointing and discussing details. _I can imagine the conversation. 'If your man had done_ a _instead of_ b, _my man would not have disarmed him so quickly. Try it again, lads, like this…' Yes. Fascinating stuff, that._

She turns from this window. _Of course if I want Arthur to teach me how to handle a sword properly, I probably should pay closer attention to these kinds of things,_ she thinks, walking across to another window. _Not that I'll get any training now. Not for at least the next nine months, anyway._ Her hand strays across her abdomen unconsciously as she looks out of the south-facing window.

"Oh," Gwen breathes. _Annis has beautiful gardens. Roses, honeysuckle, lilac bushes. Too late in the season for lilacs to be in bloom, sadly._ She turns from the window, slips into her shoes and grabs her wrap.

She finds her way to the garden and strolls among the daisies and black-eyed susans, the sweet william and forget-me-nots. _Her gardeners are very talented,_ she thinks, noting that there is not a petal out of place nor a weed poking its scraggly head where it doesn't belong.

She bends to smell some roses, closing her eyes. Sweet. She finds her way to the honeysuckle vine she spied from her window, trained up to wind around an arbor over a bench. There are honeybees at work, climbing into the small, tubular flowers to drink the nectar within, their furry legs laden with yellow pollen granules as their fat little bodies crawl in and out of the blossoms, collecting what they will. Gwen sits on the bench to watch them at work, fascinated by their industriousness. _I wonder if they know what they do. Do they know that they are making the flowers more beautiful with their attention, that their honey is wonderful and sweet and helpful to more than just their hives? Or it is just instinct?_ She thinks of Arthur suddenly, wondering much the same thing. _Does he know how he affects people? Does he work at being so charismatic, so intelligent, so understanding? How he learns from past errors and owns up to them instead of turning a blind eye? Or is it just instinct?_

A bee lands on her hand, and she lifts it, slowly, carefully, so as not to alarm the insect. "You are mistaken, little bee, I am no flower," she says, smiling at it. It crawls a few steps, then flies off once it discovers that it can get no nectar from this large sweet-smelling thing.

"Oh, but it is you who are mistaken, my lady," a voice says suddenly, giving Gwen a start. She turns to see King Odin strolling toward her.

"Mistaken?" she asks, standing.

"You are a flower indeed," he says kindly, bowing slightly to her.

"You flatter me, sir," she smiles.

"Not at all, my lady. You are a flower and your king is a very lucky bee," he says with a chuckle.

Gwen laughs as well.

"Will you walk with me?" he asks, offering his arm.

"I would be honored," she says, taking it.

They walk a ways, and Gwen identifies the flowers for him, as he knows nothing of them.

"Lavender," she points. "My favorite." She leaves his arm to stoop and pick a sprig from the woody stem, smelling it as she stands.

Odin smiles at her. "You remind me so of my youngest daughter, Gwen," he says suddenly.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Nerida. She was a kind soul as well. Smart. Loved simple things like flowers and sunlight. Her name even meant 'flower,' actually."

"Was?" Gwen asks cautiously.

"She died from fever several years ago."

Gwen takes his hand. "I am so sorry, Odin. Two children lost; that must be heartbreaking."

He nods sadly, then straightens. "I have one other daughter. She is now my only heir."

"And will you pass your kingdom on to her?" she asks carefully.

"Yes. Theode will be queen once I am gone. She is wise, like you, and strong, like Annis. She will rule well."

"I'm sure she will," Gwen says, taking his arm again as they resume their walk.

"Stubborn about getting married, though," he chuckles.

Gwen laughs, "Has she considered one of the servants?"

He looks down at her and sees her smirk and twinkling eyes, and knows she is teasing him. He laughs. "Maybe she should."

They are quiet again, and Gwen says, "Not to speak out of turn…"

"From what I understand, speaking out of turn got you where you are, Gwen."

"Now _you_ are teasing _me_," she shoots back with a grin. "But what I was going to say is that Queen Annis has four eligible princes she is looking to marry off. Something perhaps to consider."

"Hmm. Indeed. Allard would not be suitable, as he is needed here, but perhaps one of the others," he ponders.

"A word of advice, if I may be impertinent once more?" she ventures.

"Of course."

"Don't push. Let it be her choice, not yours."

He sighs. "New way of thinking, yes? Marriage for love, and if it benefits the kingdom, all the better?"

"Yes. A happy ruler will make for a happy kingdom, my lord."

"That's what I hear."

They stroll further along, and Odin picks a daisy and offers it to Gwen.

"Thank you," she says.

"If I may ask an impertinent question, my lady?" he says suddenly.

"I do believe it is your turn, my lord," she says, tucking the flower into her hair.

"I've been puzzling over something since this morning's meeting."

"My father's death."

"Yes. How is it that you can love the man who wouldn't try to stop your father's execution? The son of the man who gave the order, even?"

"Uther was a closed-minded tyrant who was afraid of things he did not understand. He made rash decisions based on fear, not wanting to appear weak." She looks levelly at Odin. "Arthur is not Uther."

"So you have no love for Uther, then."

"I do not like to speak ill of others, especially the dead, but no. I have no love for Uther. You said his death brought you no joy. Well, his death brought me grief only because it grieved Arthur."

"Yes, Arthur. You forgave him though he may have been able to save your father's life?"

"Yes. I understand Arthur. I know how his mind works; I know the pressures he feels. He does the same as anyone: he tries. Sometimes he succeeds. Sometimes not. I think he learned that day that without trial there is no success. Even if you try and fail, at least you have tried."

"He certainly takes responsibility for his actions, I will grant him that."

Gwen nods, and the wind picks up. She pulls her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

"The weather is changing, it seems. Shall we go in?" Odin asks.

xXx

"Knights had a good time," Arthur observes, walking the corridors of the castle. Merlin merely nods, and Arthur frowns slightly.

"I don't like you like this, Merlin." He stops and looks at his servant.

"Like what?"

"Quiet. Introspective."

"Oo, that's a big word."

"Shut up. I'm only going to say this once: I miss your cheerful demeanor; your… mindless chatter." Arthur turns sharply and strides away to the upper parapet.

Merlin chuckles and catches him up.

"Nice garden," he comments, but sees Arthur's perplexed face. He follows his gaze down to see Gwen and Odin walking together in the garden, her hand on his arm.

"They're just talking, Arthur."

They stop and seem to be discussing something serious. _Did she just take his hand? What the hell are they doing? Now they're walking again. She made him laugh? Why is she making him laugh? Also, Odin can laugh? Walking again. She's pointing at things. Must be telling him about the flowers, poor man. What? Did he just pick one and give it to her? And she's putting it in her hair. Stopped again._ Now _what are they talking about?_

"_Arthur,_" Merlin pokes him.

"What?" he snaps.

Merlin raises an eyebrow at him, saying nothing.

"Shut up." Arthur turns back and sees them walking to the castle, so he turns as well, intending to go meet them and demand an explanation.

"Arthur, are you really going to go down there and make an ass of yourself?"

Merlin's words stop him in his tracks. "Excuse me?"

"If you go down there and say what I know is on your mind, you will make a complete ass of yourself."

Arthur turns and walks back towards Merlin. "How do you know what is on my mind, _Merlin?_"

"Because I know how your mind works, Arthur, and I know that you are as protective as a mother bear when it comes to Gwen."

"So? She is my wife. Should I not be?"

"Of course you should protect her. However, you should also _trust_ her. You've no idea what they were talking about down there."

"I know what it _looked_ like."

"It _looked_ like two people having a pleasant conversation. Stop being so jealous," Merlin says, and strides past him to go back inside the castle.

xXx

"Arthur, I should like to send these two knights along with you as an escort back to Camelot tomorrow," Odin tells him. They have all assembled in the courtyard to see Odin's party off.

"Thank you, Odin, but I assure you it is not necessary," Arthur says.

"I disagree, my lord. You were ambushed on the way here. Please allow me to lend my aid to protect you and your queen on your journey home tomorrow."

Gwen squeezes Arthur's elbow gently. "Very well. Thank you."

Annis steps forward. "Arthur, you will keep us both updated with any information you learn of Morgana, yes?"

_I love how she veils commands in the form of questions,_ Gwen observers, taking mental notes.

"Of course. I will appoint specific messengers to both your kingdoms, and keep in contact with you both regarding this matter," Arthur says, nodding thoughtfully.

"I must be off. Sir Bradburn, Sir Jerald?" he turns to the two knights he has appointed to act as escort. They step forward. "You are charged with the protection of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere. You are to accompany them to Camelot and return when dismissed by King Arthur."

"Yes, Sire," both men answer, nodding.

"Arthur," Odin turns and clasps forearms with the young king once again.

"Odin. Safe travels, my friend."

"You as well. Take good care of your beautiful queen. She deserves nothing less."

"I know, and I will." Arthur smiles.

"Queen Guinevere," Odin holds his hand out to receive hers, and she places her hand in it.

"I am glad to have met you, Odin," she says quietly as he lifts her hand to his lips.

"Take good care of your king, Gwen," he smiles.

"Odin, travel safely and swiftly. The weather threatens to rain; do stay dry," Annis says as Odin kisses her hand as well.

He smirks at Annis. "Outwardly the stern queen; in reality a concerned mother," he chuckles, and she smiles knowingly. "Annis," he adds, almost an afterthought. "You must bring Prince Garret to pay us a visit in the near future."

"Prince Garret?" Annis raises an eyebrow.

"I do have a daughter who is heir to my throne, you know," he says cryptically as he swings himself onto his horse. He glances at Gwen, who is biting back her smile.

Annis nods thoughtfully. "Farewell, King Odin," she calls, and he rides off with his party.

xXx

"What are you doing out here?" Gwaine asks, walking down the stairs leading to the courtyard. He sits next to Merlin on a step.

"I'm going to go to Ealdor," Merlin answers.

"Looks to me like you're sitting on a step to me," Gwaine jokes.

Merlin looks at him pointedly.

"Ealdor? Why?" Gwaine asks.

"I need to talk to my mother."

"About your… thing?" Gwaine waggles his fingers in the air.

"Yes."

"You're coming back," Gwaine declares, not asking; commanding.

"Probably."

"Merlin, there's no 'probably' about it. You're coming back. You are needed in Camelot. Arthur still needs you."

Merlin sighs. "I know." He looks down at his boots. "Do you believe people have destinies?"

"I don't know. Sometimes. I think _some_ people have destinies. Those who are wise enough to recognize that they have something to offer."

"Do you think you have one?"

"Used to not. Now I think I do. Being a Knight of Camelot has made my life have some meaning again. And no one is more surprised about that than me," he laughs. "I'm not sure what exactly is in store for me, but I guarantee it's a damn sight better than what my future used to hold."

Merlin looks at the knight. _I've never heard him talk like this before._ "Does Arthur know you are actually of noble blood, Gwaine?"

Gwaine looks at him. "When did this get to be about me? We were talking about you and your life," he deflects.

"All I'm saying is that he should know where you come from. If I'm going to have to own up to who I really am, so do you."

Gwaine scowls. "You've got me there."

Merlin laughs.

"So what were you saying about destiny?" Gwaine asks, curious as to where he was going originally.

"Arthur has a destiny."

"Obviously."

"And so do I."

"I'm beginning to see that as well."

"My… my destiny is entwined with Arthur's. My destiny is to see to it that he becomes the greatest king the world has known. He will unite the kingdoms of Albion, and my destiny is to make sure he achieves this greatness."

"Piece of cake," Gwaine snorts.

"Yeah."

"How do you know this? About your destiny to help Arthur?"

Merlin looks at him. "Can you keep another secret?"

"_Another?_" He takes a deep breath. "Hit me."

"A dragon told me," he says simply. "Not just _a_ dragon, actually. _The_ dragon."

"The one Arthur killed?"

"He's not dead."

"_What?_"

"Arthur didn't kill him. I sent him away. He's been helping us, actually, for some time now." Merlin sneaks a peek over at his friend. Gwaine is staring at him as if he had just turned into a dragon himself.

"You _sent him away?_ How on earth did you do that?"

Merlin looks at Gwaine out of the corner of his eye and says quietly, "I'm kind of a dragonlord."

"Kind of?"

"Okay, I am a dragonlord; the last one. I can command dragons, and Kilgarrah has been a hidden ally for several years now. He is wise and powerful, and he has helped us in many ways."

Gwaine is silent for a long while. Finally he manages a soft, "Wow."

Merlin chuckles at this.

"I hope you don't mind me unloading on you like this, Gwaine."

"No, Merlin, if you don't mind me being a little… spooked by all this. At least until I get used to the idea. Or until you tell Arthur. Whichever is first."

"It's just so nice to be able to tell someone all this. Someone that I know won't judge me or persecute me, I mean."

"I cannot even imagine how heavy this must be on your shoulders."

"That's why I need to go to Ealdor. My mother is wise and understanding. And it's always good to see your mum, right?"

"Perhaps yours," Gwaine says ruefully.

"Well, I know not all are so lucky. But we are not far from my home village, so I plan on detouring there while the rest of you head to Camelot."

"Have you asked Arthur about this?"

"No. And I'm not going to ask him, I'm going to tell him. If he wants me to be his advisor, he has to let me come to my decision on my terms."

"See, that's why he wants you advising him."

"What?"

"You don't back down from him. He gets to be a bully sometimes, especially when he's scared, and you face him down. He respects that."

Merlin snorts.

"No, really, he does."

"I know. Otherwise he wouldn't let me get away with it."

xXx

"Arthur, stop kissing my stomach," Gwen giggles, pulling his head up level with hers again.

He grins sheepishly at her, placing his hand over the place from which his lips were just forcefully ejected. He kisses her once, then puts his head down on his pillow, pulling her against him, his arm around her.

"So the midwife said everything was fine?"

"_Yes,_ Arthur. She said that everything was just perfect and as it should be. She estimates that I am about three weeks along, perhaps a month."

"That sounds about right."

"Oh, so you're suddenly knowledgeable?" she lifts her head and cocks an eyebrow at him.

"Well, that day was a busy one…" he says, running his finger along her cheek.

Gwen laughs, dropping her head back down to his shoulder. He squeezes her gently and she sighs.

"I love you," she says, closing her eyes.

"I love you, Guinevere," he answers.

They lay quietly for a time, lost in their own thoughts. Arthur's hand keeps straying over her stomach, as if he is trying to feel for some sign of the life within.

"Guinevere," he finally says, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

"Hmm?" Gwen had been starting to doze.

"I… I think we should keep the news of your pregnancy quiet for as long as we can."

She thinks about this for a moment. "That's probably a good idea. A safe idea, I mean."

"Oh. I thought I was going to have to convince you," he says, a bit surprised.

"Not at all. I understand your thinking."

"You usually do," he admits.

"Lord Dungball's letter to Morgana already hinted that they thought I might be with child. I wasn't at the time, but now I am. And we already know that she will stop at nothing. Nothing is too low; nothing is off limits. We've already increased security. Announcing my pregnancy at this early stage is just inviting trouble."

"I don't know why I continue to be surprised at how wise you are," he says, chuckling.

"Well, the sooner you learn that I know everything, the better off you'll be."

"Indeed," he laughs, reaching his fingers under her chin to raise her lips to his.

He kisses her, tenderly, his lips soft and pliable, melding with hers in a luxurious, leisurely kiss.

"Mmm," Gwen sighs when he pulls back, looking up at him through her lashes.

Arthur pulls her fully on top of him now, kissing her again, more ardently, his tongue making demands with which hers gladly complies, plunging and sweeping into his mouth, hungry for him.

He breaks the kiss and opens his eyes slowly, watching her face, glowing gold in the light of the few candles still lit around them. She opens her eyes and he loses himself in the soft brown pools of her irises, reaching up to tuck an errant curl behind her ear. She drops her head down to nibble at his ear, and he wraps his arms around her with a sigh.

"You're the best wife ever," he says into her neck, squeezing her to him.

"Oh, really? How many have you had?"

Her tease catches him off guard and he laughs suddenly and rolls them over. "Oh, you're in for it now, Wife," he threatens with a grin before his lips descend to hers again.


	22. Chapter 22

Gwen slips a small piece of folded parchment into Annis' hand as the two queens hug each other goodbye.

"What is this?" Annis asks.

"You'll understand when you read it," Gwen smiles. Annis tucks it into her belt.

"Arthur," Annis holds her hand out, and Arthur takes it and kisses it.

"Thank you again for your hospitality, your highness," Arthur says. "Do not be a stranger to Camelot."

"Well, I do intend to pay you a visit in several months' time," she says pointedly.

"Ah, yes, that would be an excellent time to pay us a visit, indeed," Arthur says, unable to hold back his smile.

Annis leans forward and says quietly, "I will keep this information close to my heart until I receive word that it has been announced. You have my solemn promise."

Arthur nods gratefully. "Thank you." _She understands._

"Travel safely, King Arthur, and look after each other," Annis steps back and declares. "I wish you an _uneventful_ journey home."

Arthur and Gwen both smile at this. "Thank you again, Annis, for everything," Gwen says. Arthur assists her to her saddle and swings himself up onto his own horse.

"I will be in touch," he says before nodding to the queen one final time. "Let's go."

They turn their horses and make their way out of the courtyard and back to Camelot.

Annis watches them until she can no longer see them, then withdraws the parchment from Gwen from her belt, unfolding it.

_Princess Elana of Gawant._

_ Princess Mithian of Nemeth._

_ And thank you again; your words mean worlds to me. Gwen._

Annis smiles and re-folds the parchment before tucking it back into her belt and walking up the stairs to her castle.

xXx

The party reaches a clearing beyond the small forest surrounding Caerleon. They are surrounded by rolling green hills, with a high rock cliff off to one side.

They pause a moment, and Merlin pulls his horse up alongside Arthur and Gwen.

"I'm going to Ealdor," he tells them.

"Are you, now?" Arthur asks, lifting an eyebrow at him.

"Yes. I want to see my mother. I _need_ to see my mother."

"Is this about the…?"

"Yes. So don't pull any 'I'm the king and you have to do what I say' nonsense, because I'm going to Ealdor."

Arthur actually laughs at this. "You're coming back?"

"Probably."

"Merlin…" Gwen says, eyes worried.

"Gwen, I'll be back. Probably. I just… I just need to talk to my mother. She's perhaps the only one who can help me with this right now."

"Your mother is a wonderful person, Merlin," Gwen agrees. "Give her our love."

"I will, Gwen. I won't be too long."

"You'd better not be, because I don't know how long I'll be able to live with George serving me," Arthur warns.

_He's deflecting his concern,_ Merlin notes. "I'll be back before anything… happens," he says carefully, looking in the direction of Gwen's stomach. _I don't know if Elyan and Gwaine know, but I definitely know that Odin's knights don't know._

"I certainly hope so!" Gwen laughs. She reaches her hand out to Merlin, who takes it and squeezes it before turning his horse to trot off alone.

"Be careful, Merlin," Gwen says softly, watching him ride away.

"Where's he going?" Elyan asks.

"Ealdor," Gwaine answers simply.

"Oh," Elyan says, brows puzzling.

"Let's keep moving," Arthur says once Merlin has disappeared from view. He turns his horse in the direction of Camelot.

"Arthur," Elyan calls, trotting forward. "A word?"

"Yeah. Gwaine, please join the queen so I may speak with my brother-in-law," Arthur says jovially.

Odin's knights look at each other. "He allows his knights to call him by his given name?" Sir Jerald says quietly to Sir Bradburn, who shrugs.

"Oh, good," Gwaine grins, spurring his horse forward as Arthur drops back to ride beside Elyan.

Motion out of the corner of his eye catches Arthur's attention, and he looks up to the top of the distant cliff.

"No."

He sees a figure standing at the edge of the cliff. Clearly female, dressed all in black, her garments blowing in the breeze. She is not moving. She is watching. Intently.

"Into the forest. Now," he orders, kicking his horse faster, and the party follows quickly behind.

Within the cover of the trees, he slows his horse.

"Sire, was that…?" Sir Bradburn inquires.

"I'm almost certain it was the Lady Morgana, yes," he says grimly. He looks over at Gwen. "All right, Guinevere?"

"I'm fine, Arthur, yes. Let's keep moving, though. I want more distance."

"You heard your queen, lads. Onward," he commands, setting his horse at a walk once again.

"Sire?"

"Yes, Elyan, sorry," Arthur says, remembering. He sees Gwaine has not forgotten and has joined Gwen again. _Flirting, no doubt,_ he thinks, hearing her laugh. _He only does it because he thinks it bothers me,_ he chuckles to himself.

"Arthur," Elyan says quietly, "I was wondering if you knew that Gwen's birthday is approaching."

"Is it? No, I didn't know," he says. _I'm a little surprised that they know when it is,_ he thinks, knowing that commoners often do not mark such occasions and often do not know how old they even are.

"Two weeks from tomorrow, my lord," Elyan says.

"Hmm. I shall have to find a suitable gift. And of course we shall have a feast…" he muses.

"I don't think a feast is necessary, Arthur," Elyan says. "I mean she doesn't need… I mean, she doesn't _like_…" he stammers, trying to explain his statement. "Not that she doesn't _deserve_…"

"Elyan, I know what you're trying to say. She has simple tastes and does not need big showy displays in her honor."

"Yes."

"Well, she should have thought of that before she fell in love with me," he says wryly, and Elyan laughs.

"She likes flowers," Elyan suggests.

"That she does."

"When we were children, she used to pick them by the handful out in the fields outside Camelot."

"I think I know which fields you are talking about. Overrun with flowers, some of them," he smiles, trying to picture Guinevere as a child, running around amongst the wildflowers, her dark hair blowing all around her.

"She likes to grow them as well. If you don't mind my saying…"

"You may speak freely to me, you know that."

"I think she would miss it. Not having someplace to dig in the dirt and watch things grow. If you take my meaning, Sire."

"Hmm. Definitely a thought. She wouldn't take offense at something like that, though? Her own patch of dirt to play in?"

"Oh no, not her. And if she doesn't like it, tell her it was my idea," he shrugs.

Arthur laughs. "I rather think if she does like it, I should tell her it was your idea."

Now Elyan laughs. "We're getting there, Arthur, thanks."

"Have you talked to her at all since we arrived in Caerleon?" Arthur asks.

"Not really, no. Why?"

"She might have some… information that you might want to know about."

"Huh?"

"We received some news while we were there. That's all," Arthur says.

"News? Sire, forgive me, but you're being a bit vague."

"I'm trying to decide if she'll be angry with me for telling you," he says, looking sideways at him, then up at Gwen, who is munching another apple that Gwaine apparently had stowed somewhere.

Elyan looks at his sister, then back at Arthur. _Arthur is grinning. I've never seen him grin like that. Why is he grinning?_ He cocks his head at Arthur. "Wait."

Arthur nods, "If you figure it out, then I won't have told…"

"She's…?"

"Yep."

"Truly?"

"Yep."

"Wow."

"Elyan, you're going to have to do better than that for her," Arthur laughs. "Unless you're looking to get slapped again."

"Congratulations, Arthur!" he says.

"Elyan, we are keeping it under wraps for as long as we can. For safety's sake. I wanted you to know because you are family."

Elyan nods. "I understand. And thank you."

"For what?" Arthur asks. _Surely not for coupling repeatedly with your sister…_

"For calling me 'family.' It means a lot to me."

"Well, it's the truth," he nods at the knight. "I'm sure we will tell Gwaine, Leon, and Percival as well. And Gaius, obviously. Merlin already knows, of course. But it is to be considered need-to-know information until we decide to make the announcement."

"Understood. At some point, you'll _have_ to announce it," he chuckles, picturing his sister with her stomach swollen with a royal child.

"Clearly," Arthur smiles. "And thank you for the information, Elyan, I am certain you saved me from an almost certain cold shoulder."

"Anytime, Arthur," Elyan answers, and Arthur spurs his horse forward to ride beside his wife.

"All right, push off, Gwaine," he says when he reaches them. Gwaine laughs and drops back.

"All right up there, Sir Bradburn, Sir Jerald?" Arthur calls to them.

"Yes, my lord," Sir Bradburn calls back. He is still puzzling over Arthur's casual behavior with the two knights. _Are they special? He referred to one as being his brother-in-law, but he was just as friendly to the other knight._

"Ready for a rest and some lunch, my love?" Arthur turns to Gwen.

She adjusts in the saddle. "God, yes."

xXx

"Gwen, I'm getting tired of being your personal escort for peeing," Elyan complains.

"Well, sadly, you're the only person with this unique set of qualifications. I don't like it any more than you do," she snaps back.

_I should say something while we're alone. But what?_ he thinks.

"So. Um, Gwen," he starts. "I, ah, hear that I'm going to be an uncle." _No point in beating around the bush. Never been good a subtlety, anyway._

"Arthur told!" she exclaims behind him.

"No, he hinted; I guessed."

"Figures," she says, walking back to join him. They walk side by side this time. "He's very excited."

"I could see that," Elyan laughs. "And don't worry, he told me to keep it quiet. Said that I deserved to know, being, well, family, and all."

She nods.

"So… I _am_ still family, then? Gwen?" he asks, stopping to look at her.

"Yes, Elyan," she says, reaching up to hold the awful nugget of silver still hanging around his neck in her hand. "You've redeemed yourself. I forgive you."

"Thank you, Gwen," he says with a smile.

"Just…"

"I know. _Think_ next time. About you and your feelings. Not that there will be a next time."

"Hope not," she chuckles, dropping the pendant and watching it land heavy against his chest. Elyan pauses a second, then leans down to hug his sister.

"I'm so happy for you, Gwen, you know that, right? So proud of you," he says quietly to her as her arms wrap around his shoulders, hugging him back.

"Thank you, Elyan. I love you," she says.

"Love you, too." He releases her and she takes his arm as they walk back to the rest of the group.

Gwaine is attempting to cook and making a mess of it, cursing Merlin's name.

"For heaven's sake, Gwaine, how did you survive on your own?" Gwen asks as they return.

"Tavern food," he shrugs. Gwen steps over and takes the spoon out of his hand. "Get lost," she shoves him with a laugh.

Sir Jerald looks at Sir Bradburn. "Should I?"

"Yes, do. We can't have the queen cooking for us. That wouldn't be proper."

"Excuse me, my lady," Jerald says, stepping forward. "Please, allow me to prepare the food. I know how to cook."

"It's all right, Sir Jerald," she says, "I am quite happy to cook for you."

"Forgive me, my lady, but you are the queen. It's… it's not proper for you to cook for us," he says, reaching down for the spoon in her hand.

"Guinevere," Arthur says quietly, a gentle reminder that the knight is correct.

She sighs and relinquishes the spoon. "Very well," she stands again and places her hand on the knight's arm. "Thank you, sir Jerald, you are very kind."

He nods to her, blushing slightly as she smiles at him before turning to sit beside Arthur, who takes her hand in his, pulling it into his lap.

Gwaine walks over to sit beside Sir Bradburn. _May as well be friendly._

"Bradburn, right?" Gwaine asks.

"Yes," he nods.

"Gwaine," he offers his hand and the other night grasps it firmly. "Been a knight long?"

"Ten summers now," he nods. "Joined up as soon as I was old enough. Father was a knight and all that; you know how it is. You?"

"Just a few years. My path was… _slightly_ different than yours," he laughs. "Arthur made me and Elyan there knights, along with a couple other lads, a few years back. None of us were born nobles. Well, I actually was, but he doesn't know that. Yet," he admits.

Bradburn stares. "Really?"

"Yep. The thing about Arthur is, he doesn't care about where you came from. He's only interested in a person's worth. If you're a good person, he sees it."

"So it's true, then. About your queen?"

_This man clearly needs to get out more._ "That depends on what you are talking about." He raises an eyebrow at the knight.

"She was a servant?"

"She was. And now she's our queen," he looks at the knight carefully, ready to spring should the conversation turn.

"That's quite… amazing," he says, looking in the direction of Arthur and Gwen, talking quietly together, clearly very much in love. "And she was accepted?"

"Oh yeah," Gwaine says with a wave of his hand. "The people love her. We all do."

Bradburn nods.

"I mean, look at her. She's everything a queen should be."

Bradburn looks. _Trousers, boots, and a riding cloak in light blue. Hair is twisted back. No jewels, no paint on her face. Yet she has a quality. A spark._ She laughs merrily at something Elyan has said and her laughter is music. _She is beautiful, even unadorned and in traveling clothes; her beauty radiates from her heart. She has no airs; she is exactly as she seems._ "Yes. Yes, I see that."

"Any of the Knights of Camelot would step in front of a blade for her or Arthur without a second thought," Gwaine says, drinking water from a skin that Elyan has passed him. Gwaine passes it on to Bradburn.

"Thank you. And he's her brother?"

"Mmm-hmm. Elyan. He was a blacksmith, like their father."

"And what were you?" Bradburn is very interested in this information.

"A ne'er-do-well, a troublemaker, and very nearly a drunk," he says, nodding respectfully. Bradburn laughs.

"Lunch is on," Jerald announces. "Your highness?" he offers a bowl to Arthur.

"Please, Arthur," he corrects, and then turns to Gwen. "Guinevere," he says, indicating that she should take the first helping.

"Thank you," she says, and takes the bowl.

"My lady," Jerald nods.

"Gwen," she tells him.

Jerald looks helplessly at Bradburn, who shrugs.

"Is he always so familiar?" He decides to ask Gwaine. _He seems congenial enough._

"Arthur is definitely one of a kind. In a good way. Like I said," he pauses, taking a bowl, "thank you," he continues, "I was born a noble. I renounced my title because I couldn't stand nobles and what they stood for and how they behaved. Arthur was the first person I met who was actually worthy of his title. I serve him and would not serve any other. And yes, he generally does prefer to be called by his given name. We do tend to defer to titles when other people are around or in more formal settings, of course. Leon sees to that," he chuckles.

"Who is Leon?"

"Sir Leon. Captain of the Guards. Arthur's right-hand-man on the field."

"Another knighted commoner?"

"No, real noble. But another good one. Hey Jerald, this is really good," he calls to the young knight.

"Thank you, Sir…"

"Gwaine."

"Thank you, Sir Gwaine."

xXx

Guinevere yawns and stretches, waiting for the men to finish eating. She ate almost her entire bowl and then dumped the remainder into Arthur's dish, bringing a scowl from her brother and a chuckle from Gwaine.

She stands. "Going somewhere?" Arthur asks.

"Just going to walk around. Just right here. I'm tired of sitting. Been sitting on a horse; now a rock." She bends down and says quietly to Arthur, "My bum is getting tired of being sat upon."

Arthur almost chokes on his food, laughing, and Elyan slaps him on the back.

Gwaine laughs, having a pretty good idea about what she said, and Odin's knights continue to watch and learn about this very curious group dynamic.

"I wish King Odin was this friendly," Jerald whispers to Bradburn.

"Shh! Do not speak ill of our King, Jerald," he says, then adds, "but yeah."

Dishes are collected and wiped down and they prepare to leave. Gwen rolls her head, stretching her neck.

"Are you all right, Love?" Arthur asks quietly, stepping behind her to rub her shoulders a little.

"Tired is all. Annis' midwife said that the fatigue was quite normal."

Arthur bends down and wraps his arms around her waist from behind her and plants a kiss on her neck.

"Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ride with you? Elyan can lead my horse."

"Of course," he smiles, looking forward to sitting close to her, holding her as they ride.

"We are ready, Arthur," Gwaine calls, and they walk to Arthur's horse.

"Elyan," Arthur says, handing the reins of Gwen's horse to him. "Guinevere is going to ride with me. Would you lead her horse, please?"

"Of course. Is she all right?" he asks quietly, taking the reins.

"Only tired. She just wants someone to lean on," he smiles.

Arthur helps Gwen onto his horse and mounts behind her, holding her around her waist. "I like this," he says quietly in her ear, and she smiles.

"Me too," she leans back against him, closing her eyes.

"All right lads, let's go. I'd like to be home before dark."

xXx

They enter the courtyard just as the sun is starting to sink below the treeline.

"Welcome back, my lord," Leon says as they halt their horses and stablehands approach to attend them.

"Good to see you, Leon," Arthur says. Gwen smiles sleepily down at him from her spot in front of Arthur. She had been dozing, but Arthur made sure she was awake before they reached the town.

"My lady, is everything all right?" Leon asks.

"Yes, thank you. I'm just tired," she says.

"Percival," Arthur calls. "Would you assist the queen, please?"

"Of course," the large knight steps forward. Gwen reaches down to him and he lifts her down from the horse, swinging her as easily as if she were a small child.

"He's big," Bradburn observes.

"Another non-noble," Gwaine mutters with a grin, having heard his observation. "And he's really a great guy. Likes puppies."

Bradburn looks at Gwaine. _I can never tell if he is joking or serious._

Arthur leaps down. "Guinevere and I will dine in our quarters," he says. "Send," he pauses, sighs deeply, and continues. "Send George up with our dinners in an hour, please."

"Yes, Sire. Um, where is Merlin?" Leon asks.

"He went on to Ealdor to pay his mother a visit," Arthur answers simply, walking up the stairs with Gwen on his arm. He does not sound cross, but something in his tone tells the knight not to press.

"Very well. I will have George attend you. Things were thankfully uneventful in your absence, my lord. We—"

Arthur holds his hand up, stopping Leon's words. "If it was uneventful, surely I can hear about it tomorrow."

"Yes, Sire."

They enter the castle, and Arthur stops and turns to Gwen. "Go up to our chambers and rest. I'll find your maid and have her draw you a bath; would you like that?" He speaks quietly to her, fingers caressing her cheek.

"Yes, that would be very nice. What are you going to do?"

"I have a few matters to attend before dinner," he says, glancing up and giving Elyan a meaningful look. The knight catches it and pauses, waiting. "Go and get cleaned up and rest, I will join you before dinner is brought up, I promise."

"All right. Don't be long."

He bends down and kisses her, his fingers still at her chin, tilting her head up to him.

She turns to walk to their chambers, and Percival catches her up in two long strides. "Allow me to escort you, my lady," he says, offering his arm.

She looks up at him, smiles, and takes his arm. It feels like she has looped her hand around a warm tree trunk. _Extra security measures still in place, I see._

"Arthur, you wanted to talk to me?" Elyan asks.

"Yes, I wanted to discuss the matter of the queen's birthday some more."

"Her birthday's coming up?" Gwaine asks.

"According to Elyan, it is," Arthur says. "Gwaine, show our guests to the knights' quarters. Surely they can do with a rest."

"Sure," Gwaine smiles.

"And Gwaine," Arthur adds.

"Yeah?"

"Go easy on them in the taverns tonight. Oh, don't give me that false innocent look; I know you'll be taking them there."

Gwaine grins and walks to Odin's knights. "Come on, lads, let's find you a couple bunks."

"So Elyan. I was thinking. About flowers."

"Is that so?" Elyan is amused by this and he doesn't bother hiding it.

"Shut up. One of the windows in our chambers overlooks a field. It's an empty field. Do you think Guinevere would appreciate a better view?"

"What did you have in mind, Sire?"

"Having the royal gardeners plant it with flowers for her, flowers that she could look down upon and know they are for her eyes."

"Purple ones, no doubt."

Arthur smiles. "Most likely, yes. I was also thinking of having a seat placed near the window, so she can sit and look out while she tends the baby and does… whatever she wishes to do in her spare time. Needlework, I don't know."

Elyan laughs. "That would indeed be a nice addition. Don't forget about the little plot for her to tend. I really think she will like that, honest."

"Of course."

Elyan's face goes pensive for a moment, as if he is lost in a memory.

"What is it, Elyan?"

"I just remembered something. About a field of flowers. A different field, on the other side of the kingdom."

"Oh?"

"It's silly. From when Gwen and I were children."

"Well, now I'm intrigued."

"We were in this vast field of wildflowers. Mostly white and yellow, and Gwen was poking carefully through the field, looking for purple ones. She found a few. I was picking dandelions and popping their heads off with my thumb," he laughs, "and seeing how far I could throw rocks."

"How old were you?"

"I don't know. Five, maybe six. Gwen would have been about seven or eight, then. It's hard to remember. She found a butterfly and watched it for a while. I saw a bee and ran like my backside was on fire."

Arthur laughs.

"Then we were interrupted by a snotty boy with a wooden sword playing at soldiers. He wouldn't let me play with him. He even told us that we were in _his_ field and that _we_ needed to leave. Skinny git."

Arthur's eyes widen.

_"Arthur! Arthur, slow down!" Hazel, my nursemaid, called after me as I ran down the hill to the field._

_ "Charge! Onward, men! To victory! For the love of Camelot!" I was racing now, as fast as my scrawny legs could carry me._

_ There were people on my battlefield. A boy and a girl. This was_ my _battlefield, and they were_ on _it._

_ "Hello," the little boy said. And he was little, younger than me. Not interesting. I didn't answer._

_ "Can I play with you?" the boy pressed._

_ "No." I said, as disdainfully as I could manage._

_ "Oh."_

_ Great, now the girl was coming over. No use for them at all, girls._

_ "Hello," she says. I turned and ran the other way, swishing my sword in the air._

_ "Arthur!" Hazel finally reached the edge of the field, panting, her huge bosom heaving with exertion._

_ "You're not nice," I heard her say behind me._

_ "This is_ my _field. You lot need to clear off." I turned back around to face her._

_ "You can't_ own _a field. It's just a field." She bent down and picked a flower. She did it to make me mad, I know it._

_ "Yes I can, and yes I do. So push off." I stood taller, trying to be as princely as I could._

_ She calmly tucked the flower into her hair, and strode up to me._

_ "You can't own flowers. You can't own a field. You're just a boy; boys don't own anything anyway. Do you own the sun as well, boy?"_

_ No one had ever talked to me like that before, and I didn't know what to say. All I knew is that I did not like this girl. Not one bit._

_ "Or how about the moon? The river?" she steps closer. "Oh, sorry, am I breathing your_ air?_"_

_ I stood there, stunned, and suddenly she grabs my wooden sword, my favorite toy, snatching it from my hands. She flings it into the field as far as she can, then she turns and grabs her brother's hand._

_ "Come on, brother. These flowers stink anyway."_


	23. Chapter 23

There is a decidedly efficient knock at the door.

George. _Great._ "Come."

The door opens precisely, and George strides in carrying a tray. "Dinner, your majesties," he declares proudly, as if it was he who was slaving over the ovens all afternoon.

"Thank you, George, just leave the tray on the table and you may go," Arthur says casually, waving his hand in the direction of the table. Gwen appears in the doorway separating the two parts of their chambers, fresh from her bath, and Arthur goes to her.

"Feel better, Love?" he asks, lifting her hands to his lips.

There is a distinctive throat-clearing noise behind him.

"What is it, George?"

"Sire, it is my job to serve you dinner, not to deposit the tray and leave."

"I assure you we are quite capable of dining on our own," Arthur turns around and stands next to Gwen, tucking her hand into his elbow.

As she comes into view, George gasps and spins around, his back to them. "Sire! Queen Guinevere is… not dressed! It is not… proper for me to see the queen in this state!"

Gwen stifles a giggle. She is wearing a very demure, high-necked nightdress covered by a thick red dressing gown. _Nothing revealing about this at all. I even have socks on._

Arthur bites back his own laughter. "Well, I guess you'll be leaving after all, then." He can see the consternation in the back of George's head as he struggles between what he perceives as his duty and the orders he's being given by the king.

"Very good, Sire. I will return in exactly two hours to retrieve your tray," he says dejectedly.

"We'll leave it outside the door for you," Arthur says, just to irritate him further.

"Ah—" George starts, and gives up.

"George," Arthur calls as the fussy servant starts to head for the doors.

"My bags are there from our trip. You may take them to the laundry."

"Thank you, Sire," he says gratefully, picking up Arthur's bags and leaving quickly.

"Arthur, you shouldn't tease him," Gwen says as Arthur laughs, pulling her chair out for her.

"It's the only thing that keeps me sane when he's around."

"Well, if Merlin isn't your servant any more, you may be stuck with him, you know."

The color drains from Arthur's face. "I hadn't thought of that."

xXx

"I told Daisy, obviously," Gwen says to Arthur as they finish their dinner. It is now full dark outside and they dine intimately by just a few candles.

"Of course," Arthur nods, "I expected as much. I'm going to tell Leon, Gwaine and Percival tomorrow morning. As my lead knights, they should know. They are the most protective of you anyway. After me, that is." He looks over at her, sitting there, tiny in the large wooden chair. She has her hair braided over one shoulder and her skin glows in the candlelight. His face softens, his eyes taking on a light with which Gwen has become very familiar.

_Love. I saw it the first time that morning at my house, and almost every day since I broke that love enchantment. He cannot hide anything from me and he knows it. And I am so glad he no longer needs to try._ She smiles at him and reaches over for his hand.

"I love you, Guinevere," he says suddenly, lifting her hand to his lips, turning it to kiss her palm.

"I know, Love, it was written all over your face just now," she smirks at him, curling her fingers into the hair by his ear.

"Am I that transparent?" he chuckles.

"Only to me. And probably Merlin," she says, her eyes turning worried.

"He'll be back, Guinevere."

"Am I that transparent?" she laughs now.

"Only to me."

"Done?" she asks, indicating his plate. He's been rearranging beans for a few minutes now.

"Yes. I really don't like green beans," he admits, setting his fork across the plate.

Gwen stands and lifts his plate, placing it on the tray. "I know."

"Of course you do." He stands and stretches, intending to reach for the tray to put it outside, but by the time he's done stretching his back Gwen is already at the door. He sighs.

"Come," he says, holding his hand out to her.

"Where are we going?"

"Fireplace."

She takes his hand and he leads her to the rugs in front of the fireplace. She throws some more wood in before settling in against Arthur. He is sitting against some pillows, wearing just his trousers and red shirt, boots discarded en route somewhere in the room.

Gwen drops gracefully to the floor, nestling in between his legs, lying on her side against his chest. He wraps his arms around her, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

"I thought of something this evening," he says, staring at the fire.

"What's that?"

"Well, I remembered something, more accurately. Something from when I was a boy." _Can't tell her what made me think of it; it would give away the surprise._

"Yes?"

"I used to like to play out in the fields outside town, when I wasn't studying or training. I'd pretend I was a knight, obviously."

"Obviously," she smiles.

"I thought the entire kingdom was at my disposal, that I could do anything I wanted."

Gwen snorts.

"What?"

"Don't you still kind of feel that way?"

"Hey!" he pokes her in the ribs, and she jumps with a giggle. He grabs her and pulls her face up to his for a kiss before continuing.

"_Anyway,_" he continues pointedly, "for some reason, one particular day floated into my brain today. Perhaps it was crossing all the fields on the way home, who knows."

"What happened?"

"I was leading an imaginary charge into a particular field, and imagine my surprise to discover that there were _people_ already using _my_ field."

"The nerve!" she smiles against his chest.

He laughs. "It was two other children, actually. A boy and a girl. The boy wanted to play with me and I'm afraid I was quite rude to him. His big sister told me off. Took my toy sword and threw it."

Gwen sits up and looks at him. "That was _you?_"

He nods, grinning sheepishly. "Who else would have been such a little prat?"

Now Gwen laughs, lying back down against him. "Sorry I threw your sword."

He squeezes her. "I completely deserved it. I was an obnoxious child. Though I will admit, I thought you were a horrible girl."

She laughs again, louder. "Never mind, I'm not sorry after all."

He chuckles, the laughter a rumble against her ear as he squeezes her. "It took me an hour to find that sword, you know."

She still laughs. "I was having fun with my flowers and you completely ruined it. And you were mean to my baby brother. I was very protective of him."

"I'm sorry I was mean to you."

"You were a child," she shrugs dismissively. _A child being raised by Uther, no less._

"No excuse, really, though I will admit that I was everything my father was raising me to be," he says, as if he had read her thoughts.

She looks up at him and he kisses her again, longer this time, lingering over her lips, savoring them.

"Do you want to know something, though?" he asks against her lips.

"Hmm?"

"I went back to that field almost every day for the rest of that summer."

Her brows furrow as she leans back slightly to look at him.

"I was looking for you," he says, dropping another kiss on her lips.

"So you could yell at me again?" she asks casually, eyes opening slowly to look up at him.

"No." Now his brows furrow. "I may have thought you were horrible, but you… _intrigued_ me. I wanted to see the little girl who dared to yell at me again. I needed to figure her out. I thought about you more than I would have cared to. Heh," he chuckles, "I guess even then I was drawn to your impertinence."

"Four years after that I came here to work for Morgana," Gwen says. "Surprised I didn't recognize you."

"I grew a lot during those four years. Well, physically, anyway," he admits, and she laughs again, toying with the ties on the neck of his shirt, twisting one around her finger, then releasing it, watching it unwind and fall against his chest.

Arthur pulls her up to him again, hungry for more kisses. He kisses her softly, his hand resting on her cheek, trailing down her neck. She presses her lips against his, teasing them apart with her tongue, demanding more and receiving it. He holds her gently but kisses her passionately, indulging in her soft lips, nibbling and sucking at them till they are slightly swollen. Gradually he pulls away from her, kisses the end of her nose, and strokes her cheek again with his thumb before settling her back against him again.

He gives her another squeeze, his hand sliding over her stomach. "I want you to see Gaius tomorrow morning."

"Yes, dear, that was the plan. Oh! Did anyone tell him that Merlin went to Ealdor?" she sits up again.

He pulls her back down against him. "I had Elyan deliver that message before he went off to the tavern with Gwaine and Odin's knights."

She sighs, mildly exasperated. _Men are only just large boys._

"I told Gwaine to go easy on them. They are our guests, after all."

"Think he'll listen?"

"Possibly," he chuckles.

"Mm. I asked Queen Annis' midwife if she knew of any good midwives in Camelot. I figured we did not actually have a royal midwife, seeing as how the last royal baby born was you."

He nods, "And?"

"Her sister is here in Camelot. Also a midwife. Her name is Fira."

"We shall send for her and meet with her, then. Any credentials?"

"Apparently she delivered Sir Kay's child last year."

"Sir Kay has a child?"

"Arthur!"

"I'm kidding, of course I know he had a child." She eyes him suspiciously, so he adds, "It was a girl, and they named her Lily."

xXx

Hunith is working in her front garden, picking weeds from in between her carrots. She sits up straight and stretches her tired back, having spent the last hour hunched over on her knees in the dirt. _Getting old,_ she thinks vaguely. She turns her tired eyes to the small road in front of her house, and sees a figure approaching on horseback.

_Is that…? No. He wouldn't be here alone, would he?_ The figure approaches. _It is!_ Hunith stands, stepping to the road. "Merlin!" she exclaims, and her son's face breaks into a bright smile, transforming his features so that he looks much like the little boy she cradled in her arms so long ago.

He reaches the house and jumps down from his horse, embracing his mother tightly.

"This is a surprise indeed!" she says as she hugs him. He holds tight to her. "What's wrong, dear?" she asks, her hand reaching up to stroke the hair on the back of his head as he tucks it into her neck.

"Mother, it's so good to see you," he says, finally releasing her, looking down at her sweet face. His favorite face.

"You are alone?" Hunith asks, eyes scanning for signs of Arthur or Gwen.

"Yes, Mother, but Gwen and Arthur send their love," he tells her as he reaches for his bag.

"Merlin," Hunith says, placing her hands on her hips. "What is wrong?"

_Never could hide anything from her._ "Can we go inside?"

"You're going to tell me about it?"

"Yes. _Inside._"

"Very well. Are you hungry, Chipmunk?"

"Starving," he says, blushing at the childhood nickname and very grateful that she's never addressed him thus when he was here with Arthur.

She bends to pick up a bucket full of weeds, and he grabs it from her, lifting the heavy bucket and taking it behind the house to dump while Hunith goes inside to prepare some food for him.

He stands, and looks around. _Still so much ruin. Damn you, Agravaine! This village has had enough hardship already._ He plunks the bucket down hard and walks back to the house, frowning.

"He did so much damage," he says as he enters, letting the familiar environment surround him like a warm blanket. "I'm really sorry to have brought this to the village."

"Merlin…" she starts, turning to look at him.

"No, it's my fault Agravaine came and set fire to almost everything. I feel terrible. Let me fix some things for you while I'm here, please."

"How long will you be staying?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I don't know yet."

"You _are_ going back to Camelot, Merlin."

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?" he asks the ceiling, flinging his hands in the air as he flops into a chair.

"Because everyone knows you are needed there. Arthur and Gwen need you there, Chipmunk."

He sighs. "I know."

"So what is wrong?" she asks for the third time, bribing him with dinner.

"I think I need to back up some first."

He brings her up to date on all the recent events. She actually bursts into tears of relief for Arthur and Gwen when he tells her of the bracelet and Gwen's innocence.

"Oh, thank God! She was so distraught when she arrived here. I hate to admit it, but I kept a very close eye on her during the short time she stayed with me. I was just afraid she might do something… rash. Thank you for sending her here, though, I would have hated to think of her out there all alone in that state."

"That's why I sent her to you. I'm only glad she listened to me," he chuckles, poking at his food.

"Oh, poor Arthur!" Hunith suddenly exclaims. "He must have felt just awful!"

"You have no idea. I've only seen him that upset one other time, and that was when he banished her." He frowns at the memory. "When we found out she was enchanted, he actually fell to his knees and begged her forgiveness with his head in her lap."

"Oh, my," she gasps.

"It was very emotional. Gaius and I decided to give them some privacy after that."

"Good of you."

"Anyway…" he continues his tale, telling her of Lord Roderick and Bertrand and of Bertrand's comeuppance.

"So. It comes down to this: Arthur wants me to be his personal advisor instead of his servant. 'Royal Advisor' would be the official title."

"Oh, my," she gasps, understanding his conflict completely.

"_Thank you,_" he breathes, leaning back in his chair. "No one else understands. Even Gaius was congratulating me. I'm so…"

"Scared?"

He looks up. _Scared? Yes. I'm petrified._ "Yes," he whispers, blinking back the frustrated tears that are threatening.

"Love, I don't know Arthur near as well as you do, but I know he has a good heart. And I know he also has a temper. He'll blow, but he'll come around."

"It's the 'blowing' that worries me."

"I know."

"He could have me killed, Mum."

"He wouldn't. Gwen wouldn't allow it, for one."

He smiles. "True."

"You cannot accept the position without telling him, Merlin."

"I know that. That's why I'm here. I needed you to tell me. I needed you to tell me that it was okay to tell him, knowing that the consequences may be dire."

She sighs heavily and walks around behind her son, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "It's time. He's ready to hear it, even if you're not ready to tell him. Even if he doesn't know he's ready."

"How do you know that?" he asks.

"Like I said, I don't know Arthur as well as you, but I got to know Gwen pretty well while she was here. She grounds him, keeps his feet on the floor. And you are my only son. I know you as well as I know myself, Merlin, and I know you are destined for great things. I knew it the moment you were born. I knew it the first time I saw you amusing yourself as a toddler by spinning your toys in the air in front of you," she chuckles, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "He won't have you executed," she concludes decisively.

He smiles, and she gives him a squeeze before standing again to return to tidying the kitchen.

He takes a few more bites of food. "I do have good news," he says cryptically, smirking.

"I could use some good news," she says, turning back to him.

"Gwen is expecting," he says with a grin.

Hunith drops into the chair opposite her son. "That's wonderful news!" she exclaims, smiling broadly. "And so soon!"

Merlin blushes a little and says, "Well, they are, um, very much in love…" he suddenly seems fascinated by a slice of turnip on his plate.

Hunith laughs, both at her son's embarrassment and the joy of a new baby. "That does bring to mind a question, though, Merlin," she says, angling her head at him.

"I told you already, Mother," he says quietly.

"You cannot mourn her forever, my love."

xXx

_What is that infernal noise?_ Arthur's sleep is interrupted by rhythmic tapping sound. _Surely Merlin isn't prowling around looking for woodworm again._

He opens one eye and remembers that Merlin is in Ealdor. The tapping sound reaches his ears again, and Guinevere stirs in his arms. _Damn George's eyes. If he wakes her I'll have his carefully-trimmed head on a pike._

Arthur gently slides out of bed, pulls on a pair of trousers that he finds lying halfway across the room – where they landed after Gwen flung them the previous night – and walks to the door. He gets halfway there and turns around, heading back to the bed. He leans over and plants a small kiss on Gwen's forehead, then closes the curtains around the bed as the knocking comes again.

He stalks across the room with long strides, ready to give that ridiculously meticulous servant a piece of his mind. He slides the lock back and flings the door wide.

"George!" he hisses, stepping into the corridor, pushing a very surprised George backwards as he does so.

"My lord?" he squeaks.

"Why on earth are you knocking at my door?"

"To wake you so that you may start your day, Sire. Breakfast will be coming presently."

"Did it perhaps escape your attention that the doors were locked?"

"No, it did not, my lord. That is why I was knocking."

Arthur sighs. _Patience._ "George. I will say this once: In the mornings, if the doors are locked, that means the queen is still asleep and no one is to enter. Or knock."

"Yes, Sire."

"Now, normally she would be awake by now, true," he acknowledges, "but she is very tired from our journey and is still asleep. I am inclined to let her stay sleeping, and I suggest you do the same."

"Yes, Sire."

"I'm going to go back inside now. When the door is opened, fetch Gaius and bring him up."

"Yes, Sire."

Arthur turns around and goes back inside, locking the door once again. _I need to find a different servant. I will kill him if he becomes my permanent servant. Never met someone so devoid of personality,_ he thinks as he walks back to the bed. _Merlin at least knows the unwritten rules._

He stands by the side of the bed, looking down at Guinevere, curled into the blankets, looking surprisingly like the little girl in the field that took his toy sword and threw it. Smiling at the memory, he yanks his trousers off again and climbs back in, pulling her into his arms again.

She sighs and snuggles in. "What was that all about?" she asks sleepily, not opening her eyes.

"George doesn't know the rules," he mutters, stroking her soft warm back.

"He'll learn."

"I can't have him as a permanent servant and still keep my sanity."

She chuckles against his chest.

"Go back to sleep, Love," he whispers to her.


	24. Chapter 24

Immediately after Gwen opens the door a crack when there is a _very_ tentative knock.

She pulls the door open wider to see George standing there with a tray. "Breakfast, my lady?"

"Thank you, George," she steps back to allow him to enter, and he sets it on the table.

"I will return shortly with the court physician, my lord," George says, making a small bow, and leaving. Quickly.

Arthur laughs after he is gone. "He's learning. Still as wet as a dead fish and almost as interesting, but he's a quick study, I'll grant him that."

Gwen sits and dives into the food, quite hungry again. Arthur smiles at her appetite and sits to join her.

"Oh, Daisy knows who Fira is," Gwen says. "So I asked her to go find her and ask her if she was interested."

"Guinevere, you are the queen. You don't ask someone if they are interested, you command their presence and then you decide if you want them."

She looks at Arthur. Just _looks_ at him. "Is that honestly how you feel, Arthur?"

"I—"

"Think carefully before you answer this question, Husband."

"Perhaps… perhaps I should _change_ my way of thinking?" he ventures.

"Wow, that was decisive," she says, popping a grape in her mouth.

He purses his lips in frustration. _Of course she's right. That was my father's way of thinking. What was it she said that night?_ "A very wise person gave me some advice one night. She said that a good king should respect their people, no matter who they are."

"Sounds vaguely familiar. I wonder if I know this person."

"I almost kissed her that night, but we were rudely interrupted," he says casually. "Something about someone trying to kill me, or some such rubbish. I'm sure it wasn't important," he adds waving his hand dismissively.

Gwen chokes on her water at his confession, almost spraying the table. "You did?" she coughs. Arthur stands and pats her on the back, trying to help.

When she recovers, he sits again. "Yes, I would have, had Merlin not come rushing in just then." He lifts her hand and kisses it. "But I got my opportunity the next morning anyway," he says, a corner of his mouth twitching up into a half smile.

"I've always wondered," Gwen asks, "do you still have that handkerchief?"

"Of course I do," he says, and actually pulls it out of the inside of his vest, waving it at her before tucking it carefully back inside.

She smiles at him, her heart melting. _He kept it. Not only has he kept it, he wears it._

"I should give it back to you for a day or two, though. It doesn't smell like you any more," he frowns slightly.

Gwen stands and goes to him. She reaches down and holds his face between her hands, lifting his lips to hers, kissing him ardently, softly, lovingly. He reaches up and pulls her down into his lap, breaking the kiss for a mere moment before diving back in, tasting her, plunging his tongue into her waiting mouth as her arms wrap around his neck.

"My lord—oh!" George enters the chambers through the still-open doors and stops short at the sight of Guinevere in the king's lap, getting quite thoroughly kissed.

They slowly pull apart to the sound of Gaius' chuckles. "Good morning," he says, holding his hand out for Gwen, helping her rise from Arthur's lap.

"Good morning, Gaius, how are you?" Gwen says, smiling at him and smoothing the skirt of her dress. She notices George's face is bright red, and she doesn't need to turn around and look to see if Arthur is holding back his laughter. She knows he is.

"Excellent, my dear, how was your trip?"

"Very good, very fruitful," Arthur says. "George, we're done here, you may take these." He stands as George comes to the table to collect the breakfast dishes. "I need to go get the report from Leon, Love. I'll be back later," he says, bending to kiss her one last time before he follows George out the door, closing it behind him.

Gaius arches an eyebrow at her. "What's going on, Gwen? George said Arthur wished to see me, but he's just left."

"You're here to see me, actually, Gaius. I seem to be with child," she says simply.

She watches as a slow smile spreads across the old man's face. "You're certain?"

She nods. "Queen Annis spotted it, actually. And I saw her midwife while I was there. To put Arthur's mind at rest, obviously. We had a bit of trouble on the road to Caerleon, and he wanted to make sure that everything was fine."

"What kind of trouble?"

"Oh, hired thugs posing as Odin's soldiers trying to ambush us. That awful Bertrand was with them."

"Hmm. And what did the midwife say?"

"She said that everything appeared just perfect and I am young, strong, and healthy, so I should have nothing to worry about."

He cocks his head to the side. "So then, why did you need to see me?"

"You are the court physician," she shrugs.

"I will examine you, just as a matter of course, but this is more the realm of a midwife. Have you sent for one?" he asks, following her to the sleeping quarters.

"Yes. Annis' midwife has a sister here in Camelot that is also a midwife. Daisy has gone for her. Fira."

"Ah yes, I know of her. Delivered Sir Kay's child."

"You approve of her, then?" she asks, lying down on the bed.

"You do not need my approval, Gwen, you are the queen," he says, placing his hand on her forehead.

"I was not asking because I need your approval, Gaius. I was asking because I _want_ it."

He looks down at her, smiling again. "You are a wonder, my dear. Truly. Do not ever change who you are inside," he winks at her. "And yes, I do approve of Fira as a midwife. Open."

She obliges, opening her mouth for him to inspect her tongue and throat.

They chat easily while Gaius proceeds with his examination, and he declares her to be in perfect health.

"I want to tell you something, Gwen," Gaius says, pulling up a chair beside the bed.

"Of course, what is it?" she sits up against the headboard, adjusting the pillows behind her.

"When Arthur was born, it was one of the most emotional days of my entire long life. Ygraine was in labor for hours. She was so strong, so proud to be bringing a child to the kingdom after so many years of failing to conceive." He leaves out a few details about the magic involved in his birth. _Arthur needs to learn that news first, not Guinevere._

Gwen nods, understanding, yet concerned about where Gaius is going with his story. _I know that Ygraine died in childbirth; why is he telling me this?_

"There was a thunderstorm the night he was born. When he finally emerged and the midwife cleared his mouth, the rolling thunder outside was joined by the sound of his shrieks," he smiles, remembering the newborn Arthur, purple and wiggling, tiny fingers splayed, blue eyes scrunched shut as wails sailed forth from his toothless mouth. "I rushed out the door to tell Uther that a son had been born. I'd never seen him so happy."

Gwen smiles sadly. Her memories of Uther are not happy ones, but the thought of him giddy with excitement over the birth of a son manages to pull a small smile at her lips.

"I won't go into details of Ygraine's death, Gwen. I don't wish to frighten you. But I assure you that the circumstances around her death were unique indeed, and you have nothing to worry about." He reaches over and pats her hand reassuringly. "But it was her screams that hearkened me back inside the birthing room. She was holding Arthur, cleaned and swaddled and calm, gazing down at him with a look of love that one only sees on a mother's face, caressing his little cheek with her finger. Suddenly her eyes grew wide, and… some other things happened," he pauses, choosing his words carefully, leaving out the unbelievable torrent of blood rushing from between her legs, her screams of agony while she writhed in pain as the storm raged outside. "She thrust Arthur into my arms, and then she was gone."

Gwen listens intently, silent tears running down her cheeks.

"He was a beautiful baby, Gwen. Ygraine was very beautiful, and his looks favor her, as you know."

She nods.

"His blonde hair, his blue eyes, even his skin tone was Ygraine. And it was for that reason that Uther would hardly look at his son, would _not_ touch his son for two whole days. Poor child was left at the mercy of his nurses and me."

"Oh my God…"

"He was so overcome with grief over Ygraine's death that he couldn't face the son over which he had been so joyful."

"He didn't blame Arthur, did he?"

"No, no. He just… didn't know how to deal with his grief. He'd look down at this innocent child and all he would see is his dead wife."

She nods again.

"One day I caught him. Uther." He says, eyes twinkling slightly. "Arthur was three days old. He was squalling for something in his crib, and Uther somehow found his way to the nursery just before me. I saw he was there, so I waited in the doorway, watching to see what he'd do."

_"Shhh…" I watched as Uther tried soothing the child, but he still screamed, his tiny fists clenched, face red with rage._

_ "Where is that wet nurse?" he said to no one, looking around. He fretted, raising his hands, debating._

_ The king heaved a sigh before gingerly reaching down to lift the babe into his arms. Awkwardly, but adeptly._

_ "Shhh…" he soothed again, and this time it helped some. Arthur squirmed, his swaddle coming undone, and a skinny long foot came poking out, kicking._

_ Uther laughed at this, reaching down to touch the little toes before trying to tuck the disobedient appendage back into the blanket. He instinctively rocked his body, swaying gently, trying to calm his son._

_ "You look so like her," he said, hesitantly touching Arthur's cheek, too new yet to be chubby and round. Arthur felt the touch and his hand came grasping, looking for the source of the touch. It found it, and he wrapped his fingers around Uther's index finger, clutching with all his might, still squawking and squirming._

_ Uther stroked Arthur's cheek another time, his finger still in his son's grasp, and Arthur turned his head and found his father's finger with his mouth and began suckling it._

_ He was hungry._

_ "Oh!" Uther exclaimed softly, laughing and crying simultaneously. I heard footsteps in the corridor. It was the wet nurse and Arthur's nursemaid. I cleared my throat, alerting the king of my presence, knowing that being discovered with tears in his eyes would not go over well._

_ "My lord," I nodded, calling no attention whatever to his wet cheeks. I smiled at him as I took the tiny bundle from his arms to allow him to wipe his face and collect himself before the nurses entered the room._

_ "Thank you, Gaius," he said quietly, staring at the finger that had recently been in his son's mouth._

xXx

Fira is a short, middle-aged woman with ginger hair and a slightly round body. She is jovial and warm, one of those people who can immediately put you at ease because she is so at ease herself.

Gwen loves her instantly, and the two agree that she will henceforth be the royal midwife.

"I'll be back tomorrow to examine you, my lady. I trust that since Golda gave you a clean bill of health, you're most likely fine, but unfortunately Lady Evelyn is about to burst forth with child number three, and I must attend her today."

"Of course, send our congratulations, please, Fira," Gwen says, walking with the midwife to the doors of the council chambers.

"She's hoping for a girl this time, but it'll be another boy, I'm certain," she laughs. "Poor woman is going to have her hands full."

"How do you know? That it'll be a boy?" Gwen asks, interested.

"Oh, now, that would be telling, wouldn't it, my lady?" Fira says saucily, winking at the queen, who laughs and places her hand on the woman's stout shoulder.

"Tomorrow morning, then, Fira?" Gwen asks.

"With bells on, my lady," Fira curtseys quickly and strides purposefully towards the doors of the castle, on a mission to bring another life into Camelot.

Gwen walks back to join Arthur at the long table.

"Well, my presence was fairly well useless for that meeting," he says dryly.

"You were the one that wanted to be here," she shrugs.

"Is it so wrong that I want to be involved?"

"Your _involvement_ is what got me into this state to begin with."

Arthur laughs at this. _I love her unexpected naughtiness._

"How did the knights take the news?"

"Well, they're men, so the excitement level over such news is a bit more on the subdued side. But they're very happy for us. Leon, I think, was jealous that Elyan knew already," he chuckles.

"For goodness sakes, he's my _brother,_" Gwen chuckles.

"I explained that to him. Gwaine was not surprised at all," he says, brows knitting in mild confusion.

Just then a page enters the council chambers with a box. "Delivery for Queen Guinevere, my lord."

"Who from?"

"I do not know, my lord. The messenger who brought it could not say, as he received it from another messenger."

"Place it there on the table, Peter, thank you."

He does so, trying in vain to disguise his surprise that the king knows his name, and hurries out the door.

Arthur is suspicious. "Who would be sending you something?" he asks Gwen.

"I don't know. Arthur, don't you think you're being a little… over-cautious?"

"Guinevere, need I remind you that we recently added extra security measures because of the small matter of Lord Dungball and what's-his-name? Well, they're not going to be lifted for at least the next nine months," he says, standing to walk to the other end of the table where Peter has left the box.

"Stay put," he says as he walks behind her chair. She sits back down with a scowl.

He looks at the box. It is a plain wooden box, varnished and smooth, with a hinged lid and a simple brass latch.

"Maybe there is a note inside," Gwen suggests. _Open it, already._

Arthur carefully opens the box, standing to one side.

Gwen bites the inside of her cheek. _Does he think something is going to jump out at him?_

He looks into the box.

"Just a cloth toy rabbit. Ah, there is a note," he says, pulling out a small piece of parchment. "All it says is, 'For baby.' Where'd that page go?" He turns around and goes to the door.

"Peter!" he calls to the boy, who is chatting with another page.

"My lord?"

"Come here, please."

Peter comes back to the council chambers. "Yes, Sire?"

Arthur puts his hand on the boy's shoulder. "How would you like to be the official messenger to Queen Annis of Caerleon?"

Peter's eyes widen. "I would like that, my lord! I promise you won't be disappointed."

"I will be corresponding regularly with Caerleon, and I told her that I would have one messenger assigned to her, someone she could trust, someone she would know. You'll be doing a lot of riding between our two kingdoms."

"Yes, Sire. I understand," he says, nodding soberly.

"All right. I need to write a message to Queen Annis immediately, so please wait here and I will have something for you to take straight away."

"Yes, Sire," he says, looking at the end of the table where Arthur's chair is. "Shall I fetch you some writing supplies?" he asks.

Gwen looks down, trying again to hide her laughter.

"Oh, yes. Thank you."

Peter leaves and Arthur closes the lid to the box and walks back to his seat.

"You think Annis sent the gift?" Gwen asks.

"I don't know. That's why I'm writing her. Something feels off. Annis would have signed her name. I also rather think she would have sent something more extravagant."

"Well, she does know that we are keeping it quiet for now," Gwen suggests. _I didn't even get to see the thing._

"Until I hear back from her, it stays in that box."

"Yes, my lord," she scowls.

Peter returns with some parchment and ink, and Arthur begins to pen his note.

"Well, my love, I'll be going down to the kitchens to poke around a bit and plan some meals. Any requests?" Gwen asks. _I don't need to sit here and watch him write._

"Have we had that leg of lamb that the butcher sent for you yet?" he asks.

She looks at him. "Yes, we had it the very next day. I can have another ordered if you like."

"Yes, do so. It was quite good."

Gwen smiles at him and stands. The room tilts slightly, and she quickly grabs the back of her chair. "Oo."

"All right there, Love?" Arthur asks, wrinkling his brow as he looks up from his parchment.

"Yes. Probably just stood too quickly." She walks to him, kisses his cheek, and walks toward the door, pausing near the wooden box.

"Don't even think it."

She turns and sticks her tongue out at him before heading out the doors.

xXx

Arthur returns indoors at late afternoon, having spent the balance of the day out on the fields with the men. Tired and sweaty, he enters the royal chambers, tossing his gloves and sword on the table.

"Guinevere?" he calls. _She's got to be in here, I haven't seen her anywhere else._

"Over here, Love," her voice comes from the direction of the bed.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" he asks, striding over.

"No."

He sits down on the bed beside her, leaning over to kiss her. _She seems unusually quiet,_ he thinks, stroking a curl back away from her face. "Are you all right?"

"A little dizzy is all," she frowns slightly.

"Did you—"

"_Yes,_ I've seen Gaius. He is recommending rest, and Fira will be here as soon as she's done with Lady Evelyn's baby."

"Did she have it yet?"

"Don't know."

"Well, you just stay here, then," he says, smiling down at her, but she can see the worry behind his eyes.

"Can you stay with me a little while?" she asks.

"Of course. George should be up with our dinner soon, anyway," he says, settling down next to her, pulling her over to nestle against him with her head on his shoulder.

"Gaius told me something this morning," she ventures. She's been debating all day about whether she should tell Arthur the story Gaius told her about his birth and the days following. _No secrets,_ she remembered, and her decision was made.

"What's that?" he asks, his hand once again straying to touch her stomach.

"He told me about the night you were born," she says, looking up at him, blinking a few times as she feels the bed tilt, knowing it is only in her head.

"Oh?" he asks, suddenly very interested.

"He didn't tell me _all_ the details, obviously, but, um… he did reassure me that we have nothing to worry about," she says, only hinting, hoping that he'll catch her meaning.

He is quiet a moment as he ponders her words. Then, "Oh. Good."

She goes on to tell him about the thunderstorm and how he looked too much like his mother for Uther to bear. She tells him what Gaius saw, how he watched as the infant Arthur finally demanded his father's attention.

He doesn't quite know what to make of the fact that his father was so reticent in the first days of his life, and Gwen senses this.

"It wasn't that he didn't love you, Arthur. He did. But the turmoil of losing his wife on the day you were born was just too much for him to process all at once. And the fact that you looked just like her did not help matters. You Pendragon men don't always deal with emotion very well, you know," she says, looking sideways at him.

"I'm working on it," he mumbles.

"I know," she says tucking her head into his chest. She moves it back out quickly, exhaling. "You need a bath."

"Thanks," he laughs. "Perhaps after dinner you'd like to join me in one," he suggests.

"Perhaps," she says noncommittally, trailing her fingers along his chest.

They lay together quietly for a while, Arthur letting Gaius' story sink in. He has so few details about his birth and his mother that he savors them when he gets them. _I shall have to find some time to talk to Gaius some more about this._

"So I tried to eat my father's finger?" he says after a time.

"Essentially, yes," Gwen laughs. "It is common knowledge among most women that stroking a baby's cheek encourages suckling, but I doubt that is something your father knew. Which is why he was so surprised, no doubt."

He chuckles. "So I must have thought he was the wet nurse."

"There's an image I don't need in my head," she answers, and he laughs loudly at this.

"Arthur," she says, after their laughter has died down.

"Yes, love?"

"I want to nurse our son myself. I know that it isn't done, but I've been thinking a lot about it, and I want to do this."

"Guinevere," he starts.

"Arthur," she interrupts. "It's _my_ baby. _I_ want to feed him."

"I was going to agree, if you would give me a chance," he says, kissing her forehead.

"Oh," she smiles against his shoulder.

"I always thought it was odd that ladies of high standing did not feed their own children. Surely a royal baby deserves the best that can be given—"

"_Any_ baby does," she interrupts.

"Yes, of course. And what could be better than their own mother's milk? I mean, in cases like mine it was clearly necessary, but if both mother and child are healthy, why is it seen as being beneath her station?"

"Never understood that one, myself. I'm glad you agree, Arthur. This is important to me."

He shrugs. "Well, we've been breaking most of the rules thus far anyway and seem to be doing fine, so what's one more?"

"Thank you." She leans up and pecks his lips.

He contemplates her for a moment, and something sinks in. "Son? What makes you think it's going to be a boy?" he asks, teasing her now.

"Well, isn't that what you want? A strong son to be your heir?"

"Yes. But a daughter would be nice, too. A beautiful little girl with beautiful dark curls and eyes like her mother."

"Yes, and she would have you wrapped about her tiny finger within seconds, my love. I can just see it. If we have a son you will indulge him, yes, but you will also train him and teach him to be strong and noble. If we have a daughter she will be the most spoiled child ever because you will be catering to her every whim. And heaven help any man who would wish to court her," she leans up, smirking at her husband.

"Certainly not," he protests, but she knows she's right, and so does he.


	25. Chapter 25

"My lady, the midwife is here to see you," Sir Leon has just knocked as Gwen and Arthur are finishing their dinner.

"Thank you, Leon, please send her in," Gwen says.

"Yes, my lady. And congratulations," he grins at her, a boyish grin that Gwen remembers from her childhood when her mother was working in his family's home.

"Thank you."

Gwen stands, sits again, and stands carefully, slower. Arthur frowns. _He is sick with worry over what's probably nothing,_ Gwen thinks. _But he thinks he needs to be strong, the poor dear._ She reaches down and cups his cheek with her hand. He takes the hand in his and kisses her palm.

There is a knock at the door and Gwen bids Fira enter. The midwife is looking a little bedraggled, but is still cheerful.

"So what's troubling you, my lady? I hear dizziness?" she asks, taking Gwen by the shoulder like a nursemaid corralling her charge.

"Yes. Started late this morning."

"I don't think it's anything to be alarmed about," she says, then turns to Arthur. "You: out."

"Excuse me?"

"If I am examining the queen, you must leave, Sire."

"I can stay if I wish."

"Look, I don't care if you're King Arthur himself— oh, wait, you are— you still need to leave. When it comes to the little life growing within your beloved queen, _I_ am in charge."

Gwen feels as though she is about to split with the laughter she is suppressing, watching the tiny plump woman stare Arthur down in his own chambers.

Arthur opens his mouth, as if he is about to speak, then closes it sharply, perhaps having second thoughts.

"Arthur," Gwen says gently, "why don't you take the dinner tray to the kitchens? It would give George absolute fits," she grins at him.

He presses his lips together, debating between continuing the argument with the midwife – an argument he will not win – and an opportunity to needle his temporary servant.

Arthur heaves a sigh and stands, lifting the tray from the table. He bends and plants a kiss on Gwen's cheek and scowls at Fira before he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

"All right, love, let's take a look," Fira says, taking Gwen by the elbow again. She sways slightly and Fira holds tight and mutters, "Hmm."

"How is Lady Evelyn?" Gwen asks, shrugging off the dizzy spell.

"Excellent. She's a veteran at this now."

"Another son?"

"Of course. He is called Aylwin, after her father."

Fira proceeds with the examination and can find nothing amiss.

"You are hale and hearty, my lady, undoubtedly from years of good hard work and fresh air," the midwife proclaims. She sighs. "I see so many Ladies who have been sequestered away and pampered their whole lives that it just makes me shake my head," she continues. "I don't know who got the idea that it is healthy for a woman to lounge around and do nothing. Probably some man," she laughs, a loud, hearty laugh that one cannot help but join.

"Indeed, Fira," Gwen says, coming carefully out from behind the privacy screen in her nightdress and dressing gown. _No point in getting dressed again now._

"So, if this dizziness continues for several more days, do let me know. And keep dear Gaius appraised of your condition as well. I can find no sign of any trouble, and occasional dizziness is not unheard of during pregnancy, so unless it languishes, I wouldn't trouble yourself about it. Just do be careful, because if you take a spill as a result, that _could_ cause a problem," she warns, raising her eyebrows at the young queen.

"Of course. Luckily we are under extra security measures right now, so I'm escorted almost everywhere," she chuckles, sitting on the bed.

"Well, then you shall always have a good strong arm on which to lean, shan't you?" she smiles and collects her basket to leave. Gwen starts to stand. "No, dear, stay put. I will see myself out. Rest is what you need." Fira nods to Gwen, who smiles back at her.

Fira opens the door to the royal chambers to see Arthur sitting on the bench outside, picking at his fingernails, very clearly bored.

"My lord," she bobs to him once and starts down the corridor.

"Fira," Arthur calls after her.

She stops and turns. "Sire?"

"Thank you."

She smiles and curtseys again. "Only doing my job, my lord."

xXx

"My bath was no fun without you," Arthur mutters into her neck, spooning up behind her in the bed.

"Sorry, Love, climbing in and out of a tub wasn't something that appealed to me tonight. Besides, you needed the bath much more than I did."

"Oh!" he laughs. "I would have helped you," he complains.

"I know," she sighs, twining her fingers with his where they are resting on her stomach. "But it was fun watching George being horrified by my laying right here while you were having your bath, refusing even to close the curtains around the bed," she laughs.

"If we keep this up, he'll quit before I have to replace him myself," Arthur joins her laughter. "He'll claim he can't work for such morally loose people, even though we are the king and queen."

"Yes, apparently the sight of my wrists scandalizes the poor man. Goodness, I have gowns that are more revealing than what I was wearing."

"Indeed."

She sighs.

"Not dizzy now, are you?" he asks, his voice worried.

"No. Lying down, I'm generally fine. I was just thinking about the fact that I'm going to have to get some new gowns made. As my stomach grows larger, you know."

"Obviously," he says, thinking it no big deal, but he can sense her frowning, even though he cannot see her face.

"I'm going to grow fat and saggy and cross."

"Guinevere…"

"That's why pregnant women often get cross, I think. Because they have huge uncomfortable bellies and they know once the baby is born they are going to get all saggy, and the thought of it makes them cross, and _stop laughing back there!_"

"I'm… ahem… not laughing," Arthur lies, burying his face into the back of her neck, trying to hide in her hair.

"You're bloody lucky I can't make any sudden movements right now or you would be on the floor before you even realized it."

"Oh?" he laughs even harder now. "You think so, hey?"

She turns in his arms, slowly, fixing him in a stare that stops his laughter. "You think I couldn't land you on the floor?"

"Love, you can _land_ me any place it suits you," he says suggestively, stealing a kiss.

"Don't change the subject."

"Guinevere, I love you," he says, raising a hand to her cheek. "I will always love you and always think you are the most beautiful and desirable woman in the entire world. No matter how fat or saggy or cross you may become." He kisses her softly.

She sighs. "You almost won me back over. Almost."

"Blew it with the last part, huh?"

"Little bit, yes."

xXx

2 days later

"Merlin's back," Sir Percival pokes his head through the open doors of the royal chambers, where Arthur is going over some parchments and Guinevere is resting on the bed.

"Very good, Percival, see that he comes up here as soon as he can," Arthur says, not looking up.

"Did you hear that, Love?" Arthur calls to Gwen.

"Yes."

"Still not feeling well?" he frowns.

"Yes, still dizzy. Help me up, please?"

Arthur stands with a sigh. Gwen's dizzy spells have been growing more frequent in the past days, and still neither Gaius nor Fira think it is anything to worry about; just pregnancy woes. Arthur is suspicious.

He walks past the wooden box containing the stuffed rabbit, scowling at it. _Still no reply from Annis._

"You don't have to get up, Guinevere."

"I want to. I want to—whoa," she pauses as he helps her sit up, "see Merlin. Help him change his mind when he still says no."

Arthur laughs. "You still think he'll refuse, huh?" He holds her shoulders as she stands, making sure she is steady before putting his arm around her waist to support her as she walks.

"If this keeps up, the next several months are going to be very long indeed. Not to mention completely boring for me," she says. "Stop."

He stops. "Okay?"

"Yes, just give me a second."

"Guinevere, you should be lying down."

"I'll be fine."

Arthur sighs and bends down, lifting her carefully in his arms, carrying her the rest of the way to the table, where he kicks a chair out and sets her down in it.

"You don't honestly expect to carry me everywhere until the baby is born, do you?"

"If I have to."

"I'm going to get too heavy."

"Then I will appoint the task to Percival." He kisses her on the cheek.

Gwen laughs at this and picks up one of the parchments Arthur had been studying. Arthur pours her a goblet of water and sets it on the table in front of her.

Ten minutes later Merlin appears in the doorway.

"Hi."

"Merlin, so glad you're back!" Gwen says, standing without thinking, then sitting immediately with wide eyes.

"Gwen, what's wrong?" Merlin rushes to her, immediately concerned.

"Just been a little dizzy lately, that's all. I'm fine," she reassures her friend. "Now come closer so I can say hello," she says, and Merlin complies with the request, crouching beside her so she can hug his neck.

_Something's wrong,_ Merlin thinks. He senses something is off as soon as he touches her, but holds his tongue for now. _After I tell them._

"Merlin, glad you came back," Arthur says, slapping him on the back.

"Ready to string George up by his thumbs, then?" Merlin teases.

"Oh, God, you have _no_ idea," Arthur rolls his eyes and plops down in his chair. "Sit," he indicates a chair for Merlin.

"How is Hunith? Ealdor? The rebuilding is going well, I hope?" Gwen asks, drawing a scowl from Arthur. She notices. "We don't need to pounce on him immediately, Arthur," she says reproachfully.

Merlin laughs a little, grateful to his friend for the delay. He feels a tickle on the back of his head, and reaches up with his hand. _Nothing there. Odd._

"Mother is very well, and she sends her love to you both, as well as her congratulations. I didn't see any harm in telling her the news," he adds, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck now.

"That's fine, Merlin. I'm glad you told her," Gwen says.

"She was overjoyed, actually."

"She should come to Camelot for a visit sometime," she suggests.

"I'm sure she'd like that," he pauses, again feeling that strange tickle. He turns his head quickly, looking around as he continues, distracted, "though she does not like to travel."

"Well, perhaps seeing a newborn prince could persuade her," Gwen says.

"Or princess," Arthur adds. Gwen rolls her eyes. _Why does he insist that it's going to be a girl?_

"Are you all right, Merlin?" she asks, noticing that he seems uneasy.

"Yeah. Um, yeah, I think so." He rubs the back of his neck again. _Something is in here. Something… magical. Bad. It's making me itch._ "The rebuilding is going well. It's about halfway restored. I did as much as I could for my mother and some others while I was there. This winter might be a little lean, since Agravaine made sure to set fire to some of the crops, but Mum thinks that they'll make do."

"Is there something we can do? Guinevere, do we have any surpluses we can send them? I know Ealdor isn't part of my kingdom, but since it was my fault that Agravaine torched the village, I feel that I should do something to help."

"I'm sure we can spare some food and supplies, Arthur. I'll look into it." Arthur gives her a look. "I'll _have someone_ look into it," she corrects, rolling her eyes. The world swims before her again and she closes her eyes and grips the edge of the table.

Arthur looks at her, concerned. His eyes shoot to Merlin, who is twitching again, hand worrying at the back of his head.

"Thank you, Arthur, it will be greatly apprec—" he breaks off, his head jerking suddenly around, and stands. "That's it," he declares and goes to the door and closes it before he starts walking slowly around the room.

_Where is it? Where?_

"Merlin, what the hell are you—"

"Shh." Merlin closes his eyes. _Where are you?_

"Merlin!" Arthur interrupts, and Merlin waves his hand at him, irritated.

"Shut up."

He walks the chamber, eyes closed, not bumping into anything, able to navigate the room perfectly despite not being able to see. He stops. _This way._ He turns. _Closer, closer…_

Merlin opens his eyes. He is standing in front of a wooden box on a side table. _I've never seen this box before._

"What's in this box?" he turns and asks Arthur.

"It's a gift for the baby. We received it a few days ago."

"Who from?" Merlin asks.

Something in his demeanor is beginning to worry Arthur. His face is stern, serious, with an intensity the king has never seen before.

"We're not sure. There was no name. That's why it's still in the box," Gwen says.

"I've sent a messenger to Queen Annis to inquire if she sent it. She's the only one outside this building who knows," Arthur adds, still studying Merlin carefully.

"Apart from Hunith," Gwen corrects.

"Well, obviously it's not from Hunith. But we haven't received word back from Annis yet. So until we know who the sender is, it's staying in the box."

"This is not from Queen Annis," Merlin says simply, surely, turning back to the box.

"Merlin?"

"Trust me." He turns to the box and gingerly opens it. A toy rabbit, made of cloth and stuffed with something soft. Seemingly harmless. Button eyes, floppy ears. Charming, really. Merlin holds his breath and reaches for it.

He lifts it from the box and as soon as it emerges, Merlin hisses as if in pain and he drops the rabbit to the floor as though it has burned his hands.

Behind him he hears a gasp and a thud as Guinevere clutches her stomach and faints to the floor, falling from her chair.

"Guinevere!" Arthur shouts, dropping to the floor beside her. "Guards!" he calls, as loud as he can.

Merlin rushes over to her. Arthur is cradling her head on his lap, stroking her hair, bent over her.

"Move," Merlin orders, pushing Arthur upright.

"What the—"

"_Get out of the way,_ Arthur."

Merlin kneels beside her, placing his hand on her forehead, her stomach. "No, no, no…" he whispers. "No. _No._ This is not how it's going to happen, Morgana. You are not going to succeed. You will not hurt this child or its mother."

There is a sharp knock at the door before it opens with a creak.

"My lord?" a voice asks.

"Get Gaius, quickly!" Arthur yells from his place on the floor.

"I will not let this happen," Merlin continues, his voice a fierce whisper. He acts without giving any thought to consequences. He looks up, over at the rabbit, lying in a tumbled heap on the floor. He fixes it in his gaze and his eyes flash. The rabbit lifts from the floor and sails across the room and into the fireplace. As soon as it hits the coals, the fire flashes bright and hot, its flames tinged with an eerie bright green. To be safe, Merlin sends the box in immediately after, where it splinters against the back of the fireplace before adding its wood to the fire.

He bends over Gwen again, paying absolutely no heed to the apoplectic Arthur stammering something about "No" and "it can't be" and "this has to be a nightmare." Merlin doesn't know if he is referring to the magic, his wife, or both, and for the moment, he doesn't care.

_Save Gwen._

He places his hand over her heart. It beats. Merlin breathes again. He puts his hand over her stomach, closing his eyes. _Concentrate. Feel. Find the child._

_ Aha._

Below his hand, he feels a flutter, like the wings of a small bird, flapping rapidly. Regularly. The beat of a tiny, tiny heart, secure within the warmth of its mother's womb.

"Good," Merlin breathes and opens his eyes.

"Merlin…"

"Shh."

Merlin keeps his right hand over Gwen's stomach and moves the left to her forehead. He closes his eyes a moment, finding the words to bring the correct magic forward.

Opening his eyes, he speaks one incantation and his eyes flash again. He stares at his right hand and feels it grow warm, a faint gold glow rising around it. The glow fades after a few seconds, and Merlin lifts his hand as he switches his attention to the other.

_This one is easier._ He speaks again, another flash, and his left hand grows cool, a faint blue light rising around it. Gwen takes in a sudden deep breath of air, and blinks her eyes open. Merlin exhales heavily and sits back, taking his weight off of his now-aching knees.

"Arthur? Merlin? What…?"

"Shh," Arthur soothes, stroking her hair.

Gwen sits up. Quickly. _It's gone. The dizziness._

"Guinevere!"

"It's gone."

"What's gone?" Arthur asks, reaching out with his hand, his voice tinged with panic. _Not the baby, not the baby…_

"The dizziness. I feel… fine. Perfect. The world is no longer tilting and swimming." She looks around, turning her head this way and that, even shaking it. "Perfect," she repeats, her voice filled with wonder.

"The toy rabbit was enchanted with a curse," Merlin says quietly, avoiding Arthur's eyes. "Undoubtedly sent by Morgana. It was trying to hurt you, Gwen. That's what was causing the dizziness. If you had taken it out of the box it would have affected you much faster, much more severely."

"Merlin?" Gwen asks, looking at him.

"I have magic, Gwen. I always have. Since the day I was born. Ha, probably before." He looks down at his hands, picking at his fingernails.

She gasps, her hands flying to her mouth. She looks at Arthur. He looks extremely confused. She can see the relief battling with the anger and hurt behind his blue eyes.

"I destroyed the rabbit. And the box," he continues, still speaking very quietly, very levelly. Tears are streaming down his cheeks and have been for some time, but he hardly notices them. "Your child is fine. I… placed a protective charm over him. To be safe. To _keep_ him safe. And I revived you as well." He peeks up at her but finds he cannot hold her gaze and looks back down at his hands in his lap.

Her hands drop from her mouth to her stomach. _Shocked._ She looks at Arthur. He is staring at nothing, and the pain in his eyes sears into her heart.

"So, all this time…" Gwen says softly.

"Yes. I've hidden it from you both all these years. I didn't want to. But I had to."

Gwen nods. Something registers in her brain. "Him?"

Merlin looks up. "Him who?"

"You said you placed a protective charm over 'him.' Just a minute ago."

Merlin nods. "Him."

"I… I don't know what to say, Merlin," Gwen says.

"I know." Merlin sniffs, looking down at his tear-soaked shirt. "Arthur?" he ventures, his heart attempting to pound its way out of his chest.

"Thank you, Merlin, for saving Guinevere and the baby. But you need to leave now," Arthur says, his voice barely audible, his face unreadable.

"Arthur, I…" Merlin starts.

"Out."

Merlin stands, wipes his face, and walks to the door. "I have never used my magic for evil, Arthur. Never," he says to the floor just inside the doors.

"I will send for you when I am ready to deal with you, Merlin," Arthur says, his voice low and emotionless.


	26. Chapter 26

_I can't believe it. I can't believe it. Merlin._ Merlin, _of all people. I trusted him with my life. Several times._

_ I called him friend._

_ Everyone I trust betrays me in some way. Morgana. Agravaine. Guinevere. Okay, not Guinevere. And now Merlin. My idiot servant is a wizard. A bloody_ wizard. _And from the looks of things, a pretty powerful one._

_ How dare he presume to place a 'protective charm' over my child! My son… I don't want magic touching him!_

_ And how do I know that it was indeed a protective charm? How do I know that he didn't turn my son into something terrifying, or worse…_

_ I can't even think of the 'worse.'_

_ He's been lying to me all these years, what's one more lie? "I've put a protective charm on him," he said, but what did he_ really _do?_

_ He did save Guinevere. And he destroyed the rabbit. And the box, just to be safe. But he was gone when those things arrived. How do I know that he didn't send them? How do I know what his motives are? How do I know he's not been in league with Morgana all this time?_

_ He_ did _save Guinevere._

_ Betrayal. Lies. Deceit. I can't abide these things. As king I cannot allow them._

_ I trusted him. I thought of him almost as a brother._

_ He had to hide it. My father surely would have killed him without a thought. I am not my father. But could I have kept his secret from Father, if he'd told me?_

Would _I have kept his secret?_

_ Magic is evil. This is the mantra with which I was raised._

_ Is Merlin evil?_

Is _he?_

_ No._

_ How can I reconcile what I've been told all my life, what's been drilled into me since I was old enough to comprehend, with what I just saw with my own eyes?_

_ He. Saved. Guinevere._

_ I don't know what to do._

_ My heart is breaking in a way I never expected._

"Arthur?" Gwen's sleepy voice comes drifting over to him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"I'm here," he calls back.

"Where are you?"

"By the window. Looking out at the courtyard."

"Come back to bed, Love."

"I can't sleep. I don't want to disrupt yours."

"You already are by not being here with me. Come here and let me hold you."

He sighs, closes the window and shuffles back to bed, climbing in, into his wife's embrace. She holds him, presses his head gently down on her chest, stroking his hair.

"I was—" he starts.

"I know what you were doing. Shh."

xXx

Arthur's sword slashes fiercely, attacking the practice dummy again and again. The poor wooden man doesn't stand a chance against the agitated king's assault.

Merlin rounds the corner with a jug of water for the knights. He sees Arthur venting his aggression on the dummy. He freezes.

Splinters fly; the dummy shudders under the relentless attack. Arthur glances up and sees Merlin standing there, watching.

_How many times did I not see?_

Gwaine approaches Merlin, takes the jug from the servant's hands, gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder, and continues on.

Something stirs in Arthur's memory.

_Gwaine and Merlin. The quest into the Perilous Lands._

Arthur's face is set in an angry scowl, sweat beading on his brow as he strikes again and again.

_Grettir the bridgekeeper. He called me 'Courage.' Said I would need 'Strength and Magic' to complete my quest._

The sword flashes and shaves a parchment-thin curl of wood from the dummy's shoulder with the precision of a master butcher carving a joint of meat.

_"I don't condone the use of magic," I had said. "You'd be wise not to dismiss it so freely," he had replied._

The sword thrusts again and again.

_Gwaine and Merlin. Strength and Magic. How could I have not seen it?_

He spins, sword parallel to the ground, slashing through the air at a blinding speed. It makes contact with the dummy and its head is sliced clean off, tumbling to the ground.

Merlin jumps, his eyes wide.

Arthur bends and kicks out sideways, knocking the dummy off its support. It falls to the ground.

A hawk shrieks, and Arthur looks skyward to see it soar across the practice field, wings outstretched, before swooping down a distance away to claim its prey.

_The great dragon. He said I dealt it 'a mortal blow.'_

Arthur steps to the next dummy, eyes glancing in Merlin's direction for the briefest of moments.

_Did I? I woke up and it was gone._

He charges with his sword, showing no more mercy to this dummy than he had to its recently-destroyed companion.

_Gone. No body. Surely if I had killed it, there would have been a bloody great dead dragon body lying there in the field. Wouldn't there?_

Slash, thrust, his sword as swift as the hawk that had just flown past.

_What._ Slash. _Did._ Slash. _He._ Slash. _Do?_

Arthur lunges forward, thrusting his sword into the torso of the wooden dummy. The blade sinks in halfway.

He stops, releasing the sword, blinking in surprise, breathing heavily, watching it sway slightly, impaled in the wood.

Merlin watches, rooted to the spot, as Arthur reaches up to pull the sword from the dummy.

It's stuck.

_Like the sword in that stone._

He looks up at Merlin and their eyes lock.

xXx

Arthur, exhausted but still agitated, stalks through the castle corridors, searching, eyes darting, one purpose in mind. _Guinevere._

She's not in the council chambers. Great hall is empty, as is their chambers. He didn't see her in the courtyard.

_Kitchen._ He heads down to the royal kitchens and finds her talking to the cook. He pauses in the doorway, unnoticed as he peels his gloves from his hand, tucking them into his belt. _My Guinevere,_ he thinks, feeling a little better just seeing her. Seeing her there, talking to the cook, her warm smile and twinkling brown eyes. Her beautiful curls cascading down her back with a few naughty ones hanging loose, brushing her collarbones. The tops of her pregnant-heavy breasts taunting him from above her bodice…

"Excuse me," he says, snatching her hand and pulling her out of the kitchen behind him.

"Arthur!" she exclaims, jogging to keep up with him as he leads her through the castle.

They reach their chambers, and he pulls her inside, locking the doors behind them. She stops, catching her breath, waiting, watching.

"Talk to me, Arthur," Gwen says softly.

He stares at her, and she can read the emotions in his eyes. _Pain. Confusion. Lust. Anger. Passion. Hurt._ She takes a tentative step forward, then hesitates and stops. Waiting for him.

Gloves, sword and belt are thrown on the table, and Arthur yanks his chainmail off over his head.

He turns back toward her and pulls her into his arms, kissing her fiercely, holding tightly, his tongue demanding entrance.

_Oh. I see,_ Gwen thinks. Slowly, almost tentatively, her arms creep up around his neck. "I'm here, Love," she mutters against his lips between kisses.

He backs her up against the wall, kissing down her neck.

"Oh…" she breathes, his lips making the sensitive skin on her neck tingle hotly.

He kisses down to the tops of her breasts as his hands reach down to her skirts. He starts pulling them up and her hands drop to the ties on his trousers.

"_Yes…_" he gasps, moaning in the back of his throat when her hands touch him. He hurries to bring her skirts up out of his way.

Arthur presses his hand against her, fingers slipping in, and she gasps with pleasure, head falling back against the wall.

He lifts her, his hands under her rear, supporting her as he slides into her. She hangs on to his neck and wraps her legs around his waist, kissing him hungrily.

He plants his feet and thrusts into her, holding her hips, bracing her against the wall as he drives, mindless of anything else. One hand comes up to grip her breast through the material of her dress, squeezing gently, as she places biting kisses on his neck.

"Oh… Arthur…" she gasps into his neck. "Yes…" His anguish is transformed to passion with each powerful thrust that sends hot shivers down her spine, negating the cold contact of the stone pressed against her shoulders.

He clings tightly to her, his face tucked into her neck, inhaling her scent, tasting the sweet saltiness of her skin on his tongue. Losing himself in her, allowing her goodness, her warmth to invade his soul.

Suddenly he stills, tightening his grasp on her as he groans her name in release. A moment later he breathes again, trailing kisses back to her lips as he resumes his movements, determinedly bringing her to satisfaction as well.

She sighs as he continues, leaning her forehead against him, whispering gentle words into his ear. He rains kisses on her throat, her neck, and finally her lips as Gwen's hands come around to cup his face gently. She looks down into his eyes, trying to hold his gaze, her fingers gentle on his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks, fingertips teasing at his hair.

Her eyes stay locked on his until she falls over the precipice of her own desire. Her eyes flutter closed and her lips part in a whimpering moan, the sensations spreading out to her toes. He claims her parted lips with his again, swallowing her moan as her legs tighten around him.

xXx

The next day

Arthur knocks on the doors to Gaius' quarters. He's just seen Merlin heading to the lower town, undoubtedly gathering supplies for Gaius, so he decided to take the opportunity to talk to his trusted court physician.

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd come calling," Gaius says, opening the door. "Please," he motions, bidding the king enter.

Arthur sits heavily. He looks ragged.

"You did not sleep, my lord?" Gaius asks, but he already knows the answer, and knows Merlin fared much the same.

He looks up at the older man. "Did you know?" he asks simply.

Gaius sits. He purses his lips, looks Arthur straight in the eye and says, "Yes."

"I see."

"I had to protect him. I made a promise to his mother."

Arthur nods very slightly.

"He is my kin, Sire, did you know that? Hunith is my niece. As family, I was bound to protect him."

Arthur is quiet, staring at his boots. _They need a polish,_ he thinks idly, distracting himself from thinking about what he should be thinking about. Finally he looks up. "I don't know what to do, Gaius."

"What did Gwen say?"

"Guinevere is grateful to Merlin for saving her and the baby, but she is conflicted as well. Her life has been harmed by magic as well."

"Of course, but you must know—"

"I do know, Gaius. I know Merlin wouldn't hurt a fly if he could help it. I understand his reasons for hiding it from me, and yours. I know all this in my head," he says, pointing a finger at his temple. "It's this," he drops the finger to his heart, "that is having the difficulty right now. I'm trying not to feel betrayed by this." He sighs heavily. "Guinevere thinks we should let him stay; still proceed with making him Royal Advisor. And seriously, _seriously_ re-examine the laws against magic."

"If I may suggest, my lord, perhaps having someone with magic on our side might be beneficial in this re-examining," Gaius says cautiously.

"She said the same thing."

"And what do _you_ say, Arthur?"

"I don't know! I'm so… conflicted. My father would have had him on a pyre by now without a second thought. I… I can't do that. Not to him."

"I know. Arthur," Gaius starts, "I think it's time you know something."

Arthur looks up.

"Your father's hatred of magic, his fear of magic, was born of his own folly."

"What?"

"Do you remember when we first met Morgause? When she came and challenged you to single combat?"

_And I lost,_ he thinks sullenly. "Yes."

"The things she revealed to you, the things about your birth, your father, your mother. They were all true."

His eyes shoot up, meeting Gaius' squinty gaze.

"But _colored_ by her own hatred," he qualifies. "It is true that your father bargained with the witch Nimueh to get Ygraine to conceive a child. What was not fully explained to you was that Nimueh _did_ explain the terms of the arrangement to Uther: Balance. A life for a life. Now, it is unclear as to whether Uther did not understand or his desire for an heir clouded his judgment, but either way, _neither Nimueh nor your father knew that your mother's life was the one that was going to be taken._ Do you understand that, Arthur?"

Silent tears are rolling down Arthur's cheeks as he listens to Gaius. He nods mutely.

"His grief over your mother's death was magnified tenfold because he knew deep down he was responsible for it, even if he couldn't admit it to himself. He never blamed you for her death, Arthur, it is important that you know this. However, instead of taking responsibility for his mistake, he used his power to turn his error on those that practiced magic, twisting his own memory to the point where he _believed_ his own lie. He condemned all those that used magic as evil, regardless of how they used it, their age, gender, or status. It was a horrible, horrible time."

"I have suspected for quite some time now that not all magic is evil," Arthur admits quietly.

"Your suspicions are correct, Arthur. There are other people like Merlin out there. Hiding. Waiting. Hoping. Hoping that _you_ will be the one to free them from their self-imposed prisons. Do not let your thoughts be colored by your father's prejudices. You are a man; _you_ are king."

"You have a good heart. Be true to it. Only then will you be the king you want to be," Arthur whispers, almost to himself.

"That's good advice. Guinevere's?"

He nods. "A while back."

Gaius nods.

Arthur looks up. "Does anyone else know? About Merlin?"

Gaius thinks. "I do not believe so. No one yet living, anyway," he chuckles.

The young king's face puzzles.

"Often Merlin's magic is the last discovery some people make. And those are usually people that are trying to kill you, my lord."

"So, all those times he's claimed he's saved my life…"

Gaius nods.

Arthur sighs. _Damn._ "Morgana doesn't know?" he asks, suddenly realizing how catastrophic that would be.

"No. This I can say for certain."

"Good," Arthur says, standing. "Thank you, Gaius. You've been very helpful. I need to do some more thinking, but your counsel has not fallen on deaf ears."

"I'm glad."

He sighs. "Not a word to Merlin, please."

"Of course," Gaius nods. _Arthur needs to handle this himself._

Arthur gives Gaius a friendly squeeze on the elbow then turns to leave.

"Arthur?" Gaius calls after him.

"Yes?"

"You and Merlin, the two of you are brothers, you know. Two different sides of the same coin."

"I know," Arthur says with a melancholy half smile.

xXx

Arthur returns to his chambers, looking for Guinevere and her lap to rest his head on so he can do some thinking. He rounds a corner, and Peter intercepts him, finally returned, his arm in a sling.

"My lord!" the young man calls, holding a piece of parchment towards the king.

"Peter, what happened to you?" Arthur asks. He doesn't look at the note; he knows Annis did not send the gift, so it can wait.

"Something spooked my horse on the road to Caerleon, Sire," he explains. "A… a shadow. Something. I'm not sure; I didn't get a very good look at it," the boy says. "I fell from my horse and broke my arm. Queen Annis had her physician fix me up and bade me rest before returning."

"Indeed," Arthur says, now interested in the contents of the note.

"She is a good queen, if I may say."

"You may. She is. Go see Gaius now, my boy," Arthur says distractedly, ruffling the boy's hair before turning back to head to his room, unrolling the parchment.

_Arthur,_

_I regret to say that I have sent nothing, in keeping with my promise. My fears mirror yours, and I do hope there is nothing amiss._

_I have dispatched parties of knights throughout my kingdom and recommend you do the same. Send word to Odin as well. We must leave no stone unturned._

_Your messenger is bright and brave; I shall look forward to his visits._

_Your servant,_

_Annis_

_To Gwen: Thank you for the names. I have sent correspondence to both. Garret has just returned from Odin's kingdom, where he met Princess Theode. Things bode well._

Arthur reads the message twice. He knows Annis is being intentionally vague, and understands the reasoning. Agrees with it, in fact. The message to Gwen is a bit of a puzzle, though. _Is my Guinevere playing matchmaker for the princes of Caerleon? What names did she give Annis?_

He looks around to see if Peter is still about. "Peter?" he calls. The boy jogs back around the corner.

"My lord?"

"I need another messenger to assign a kingdom. Any recommendations?"

"I can do it!" the boy eagerly answers, walking back towards Arthur.

"No, it needs to be someone else. Occasionally I'll need to send both of you out at the same time."

"I see. My mate Clayton would be a good choice, then," Peter recommends.

"Send him up to my quarters. I will have a message for him to take to Odin."

"Odin?" Peter's eyes grow large.

"We are allies now, I will not be sending him into anything dangerous," Arthur assures the boy.

"Yes, Sire."

Arthur finally reaches his door, pushing it open. "Guinevere?" he calls. No answer. He sighs, and goes to the window overlooking the courtyard.

_Oh. There she is. Since she's able to move around again, it seems all she wants to do is take walks._ He watches her walk, smiling at the knights stationed around the courtyard. He nods approvingly as he notes that these knights are keeping a close watch on their queen, doing their instructed duty.

_Merlin,_ Arthur frowns slightly as the servant appears. Gwen walks to him, and Arthur can even hear her calling his name.

She holds her arms out to Merlin and hugs him warmly. _He looks surprised,_ Arthur notes. He watches as she talks to Merlin, taking his hand in hers. _She's thanking him again._ Merlin nods and waves it off dismissively. _He looks worried. I don't blame him. I'm worried myself and I'm the one that has the power. Well, he has power, too, just a different kind…_

Merlin finally smiles, but sadly. _She's reassuring him. Why is she reassuring him? I haven't even decided what I'm going to do yet! Of course, she often knows my mind before I do. Still. All right, I'm not going to kill him. I know that much._

Gwen reaches to give Merlin another hug before she squeezes his elbow in support and lets Merlin continue on into the castle.


	27. Chapter 27

Gwen watches as Arthur rides off on his horse towards the forest.

_"I'm going to take a ride. Clear my head," he had said after picking at his breakfast._

She turns quickly from the window and rushes out of the room in search of Merlin.

xXx

Arthur slows his horse to a stop near a stream. They both need a rest and a drink. He leads the horse to the water's edge and the animal dips his head, lapping up the cool clear water.

He gives the horse a pat and crouches down himself, cupping some water in his hands and lifting them to his lips, drinking.

"How's the water?"

Arthur lifts another handful, splashing his face this time. "I told you I would send for you when I was ready to deal with you." He sits on a rock nearby, looking out over the stream.

Merlin sits on another, opposite Arthur. "I'm tired of waiting."

Arthur finally turns his head to look at him. _When did he get to be so insubordinate?_ "I don't know what to do with you," he admits.

"I know."

"I'm not going to execute you."

"I know. You would have done by now if you were going to."

Arthur laughs once, humorlessly. _He knows me too well. One of the main reasons why I need to keep him close._

"I understand what you're struggling with, Arthur."

"Do you? _Do_ you?" he yells, the pain clear in his voice. "You understand that I feel betrayed by you, after all these years, that… that you _deceived_ me innumerable times, lying to me? Making Gaius lie to me? You understand that my heart is breaking to discover that the man who is quite likely my best friend has been secretly using magic behind my back? Magic that is banned in this kingdom?" Arthur looks at Merlin, his eyes pained and glassy. Swallowing, he continues. "It has been drilled into me my entire life that magic is evil, Merlin, and that those that practice it are also evil! But I know you are not evil. You don't have an evil bone in your body, and I cannot reconcile those two concepts! So that forces me to change my entire way of thinking, forces me to face the fact that my father made a colossal mistake, that he… killed people unnecessarily. Innocent people. That he may well have been the tyrant that many people saw."

Merlin sniffles, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Yes, Arthur. That's exactly how I understand it to be. You feel like you're dishonoring his memory if you forgive me."

Arthur looks up, surprised. "Yes." _I didn't even realize it myself until just now._

"But can you understand what I'm struggling with? What I have _been_ struggling with since I first arrived here? My entire life, in fact?"

Arthur's eyebrows furrow. _Never thought of it that way. I've been too busy brooding on my own problem._ "I…" he starts, and gives up.

"Go ahead. Give it a try. I dare you."

Arthur is quiet. He looks at Merlin, studying this strange young man whom he now sees in a completely different light. He is no longer the bumbling servant, the fool that Arthur so often called him. _It was all a ruse. He had to hide behind that front._

"You… you feel like you don't belong anywhere," Arthur starts, gazing out over the stream again. He sees Merlin nod out of the corner of his eyes.

"That's a good start."

"And… you've been scared every day. Scared that someone may find you out and turn you in."

"Not so much any more. When your father was alive, yes."

"You didn't _want_ to deceive me."

"Of course not."

"But… you didn't know how I would react if I found out. If I would tell my father."

He nods glumly.

"Then why did you stay? Why do you continue to stay?" Confused, he raises his voice slightly, throwing his hands in the air.

"I have to. For you. My destiny is woven with yours, Arthur. It is my duty to help you, to protect you. I've said this before, and you always laughed it off. I know it sounds strange. But I was telling the truth every time. I let you call me an idiot and otherwise abuse me because it served my purpose. If I could—"

"Hide behind a mask of foolishness, no one would suspect that you are a sorcerer," Arthur finishes.

"Yes. I'm not always the most graceful person in the world, so it wasn't very difficult," Merlin admits, and Arthur laughs a little.

They sit quietly, pitching small rocks into the stream, listening to the _plink_ of the stones as they plop into the water.

"So. Explain yourself."

"How much do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"I don't think you're quite ready for _everything_ just yet, Arthur." _Plink._

"Oh?"

"No. There's quite a lot. You've already lost it, I'll not be tipping you further over the edge."

Arthur sighs. "Well?" _Plink._

Merlin sighs. "I was born like this. My mother said I used to make my toys levitate when I was a toddler."

"Were you born of magic?"

"No. My mother never married, but I was conceived in the, um, _traditional_ way." He blushes, not really wanting to think about that.

"Sorry. I just thought—"

"I know. Since I was born with it, perhaps I was born _of_ it. No. My father had magic as well. I get this from him." _Plink._

"Did you know him?"

_Careful, Merlin. Do not tell him about the dragon yet._ "I met him later in life. He… he's dead now."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I." _Plink._ He sighs. "Arthur, I want you to understand something. My being a wizard is no different than you being king. You were born a prince. I was born a wizard. Neither of us asked for it. We both wish from time to time that we were something other than what we are. Something… normal. Ordinary. But we can't. All we can do is do the best we can with what we were given." He pauses and looks at Arthur. "_That_ is what makes me different from Morgana. I try to take what I have and get the good from it. She feels it is a curse and since she is miserable, she wants everyone else to be as well."

Arthur nods. "It's going to take me a while to get used to you like this." _Plink._

"What, magical?"

"No, intelligent." Arthur flings a rock at Merlin and, on a whim, Merlin flashes his eyes at the rock, stopping it in mid-air. He blinks and it drops.

He watches Arthur's reaction. "Huh," he half-laughs. "I thought you said you never used your magic for evil."

Merlin smirks. "Was that a joke?"

"Of course not." _Plink._ "So. You claim you have a destiny, too, then."

"Yep. It's to help you become a great king, like I said. Camelot is your responsibility. _You_ are my responsibility. Mine and Gwen's, actually."

"Saw you talking with her in the courtyard yesterday."

"Yeah. She's really special, Arthur. You know that. She wanted to thank me again for saving her and the baby. Mostly the baby."

"Did you… did you _really_ put a protective charm over the baby?" Arthur asks, turning to face Merlin fully.

"Of course I did!" Merlin sounds offended.

"I didn't mean it to sound like that, Merlin. I know you wouldn't hurt the baby. Him." Arthur smiles a small smile. "Definitely him?"

Merlin nods.

"How do you know? Wait, I don't think I want to know." He holds up his hand. "I… I guess… this is just all so strange. I told you it would take a while."

"I understand."

"Who else knows?"

"About my magic?"

Arthur nods.

"My mother, of course. Gaius." He hesitates. _Best not mention Lancelot._ "Gwaine found out just recently."

"Gwaine? You trusted _him_ to keep this secret?" Arthur is incredulous.

"I do trust him, but I didn't intend for him to find out. I was actually trying to show you, if you can believe it."

"When?"

"You know the branch that mysteriously fell on Bertrand's head?"

"You did that," Arthur says, putting the pieces together. _Have I really been so unobservant?_

"Yes. I wanted you to know. I've wanted to tell you for a long time now. And I thought the best way would be if I used my magic to save Gwen somehow. The hard part was waiting for an opportunity. Or so I thought."

"And Gwaine saw instead of me."

"Yep. He confronted me in Caerleon, and I told him. It felt good to unload some of the burden, actually."

"That's why he was quiet."

"Yep."

"And obviously that's why you wouldn't answer about becoming my advisor."

"Yep. I couldn't accept the post _and_ still keep this secret from you. It would have killed me; eaten at me from the inside out more than it already was. And it would have destroyed you if you had found out after."

He nods, then straightens up. "Morgana doesn't know?"

"God, no, that would be catastrophic."

"I talked to Gaius yesterday, and he said she didn't know. But I wanted to hear it from you."

"She knows there is a wizard out there called Emrys. She's petrified of him, but I'm not certain why." _Do I tell him? Or is this too much._

"Do you know this Emrys?"

"I do." He looks Arthur straight in the eye.

"You're Emrys, aren't you?" Arthur asks.

Merlin nods.

xXx

Arthur and Merlin ride back into Camelot together. Gwen smiles as she sees them ride into the courtyard. _Merlin is still alive. And they're talking to each other._

"So I'm your best friend, then," Merlin says with a grin, remembering Arthur's earlier statement.

"Never said that," Arthur deadpans.

"I distinctly remember…"

"Your memory is clouded by… the… stress of the moment. Yes. Stress."

Merlin laughs. "We both know you said it."

"Shut up."

"Arthur?"

"What?"

"I feel the same way."

"Thank you. Now never mention it again."

"Yes, Sire."

They dismount, and Elyan strides quickly forward. "My lord, a word, please?"

"Yes, Elyan, what is it?" Arthur says, walking towards the knight.

"It's about Gwen's birthday," he says, glancing at Merlin.

"That's right, it's coming up," Merlin says.

Arthur looks at him. "_You_ knew her birthday was coming up and you didn't tell me?"

"Sorry, been a bit preoccupied with other things, you know."

"Hmm," he scowls. Then, under his breath, "Some best friend you are."

Merlin laughs and shoves Arthur lightly on the arm. Arthur reaches up and pushes his head to the side.

Elyan stares.

"Yes, Elyan, what do you have for me?" Arthur says, turning back to the stunned knight.

"A list of flowers. Mostly purple, some white, some yellow."

"Yellow?"

"She likes yellow ones, too. Says… what was it? They contrast the purple? Something like that. I can't discern colors very well, so they all look alike to me," he shrugs.

Arthur looks at the list. The names mean nothing to him. He hands it back to Elyan. "I've decided that this gift will be from both of us, Brother. You know where?"

Elyan nods. "I looked in on her this morning, and snuck a peek. I'm glad her dizziness is gone, Sire. I was worried."

"We have Merlin to thank for that, actually," Arthur says, nodding in Merlin's direction. "But that's for later. Take your list to the royal gardeners and give them the instructions. We only have a week, so they'll need to work swiftly. And…" he sighs. "How are we going to do this without her seeing?"

"Break the window," Merlin suggests.

"What?"

"Well, perhaps not _break._ But I could arrange it so the window, um, can't be opened. Temporarily. She won't be able to see through that stained glass."

Arthur raises an eyebrow at Merlin, who nods.

"All right, then. Elyan, off you go."

"Speaking of my lovely wife, I think we need to go see her," Arthur suggests as the two men climb the stairs into the castle.

"Do we?"

"We have some decisions to make. And we'll need to thank her for sending you out after me this morning."

"She didn't send… oh, I can't even say it with a straight face," Merlin laughs.

xXx

The next morning. Council chambers.

Arthur sits at the head of the table, with Guinevere at his left and Merlin seated at his right. Many of the council members are grumbling about this unexpected change.

Gwen is listening, and she can distinctly hear comments of "only a servant" and "place of honor" and "what is _he_ doing _there?_"

Arthur holds his hand up, and a hush falls.

"My friends: Much has happened in this last month in our great kingdom. First and foremost, Queen Guinevere and I wish to thank the people for the tokens of love and appreciation they have bestowed on the Queen. She was truly, deeply touched and offers her most humble thanks. I have written notices of thanks signed by the queen that will be posted by pages following this meeting."

"Second, our long state of unrest with Odin has finally come to an end. He agreed to meet with me in Caerleon, courtesy of our friend Queen Annis, and we have mended our hurts. King Odin is now our ally, and both he and Queen Annis have agreed to offer their aid should the Lady Morgana rise again."

There are some confused rumblings among the council.

"Yes, that is the one dark spot in our news this morning. The Lady Morgana lives. We have seen her and have seen evidence of her hand at work again. Queen Annis, King Odin, and I have dispatched search parties in the hopes of finding where she has hidden herself away. I am confident that we will defeat her again if need be, hopefully for good."

Some positive chatter mixes with skeptical rumblings.

"My next announcement is perhaps the most important and most grave. It is good news, but not to be taken lightly."

Murmuring.

"Magic has been banned in Camelot for over twenty-five years now. Many people have been put to death, many of them innocent. I wish to make amends for this; I wish to right my father's wrongs. If I could undo the unjust acts, I would."

He clears his throat, heart pounding. Gwen reaches over and takes his hand.

"Second, I hereby proclaim that magic is no longer banned in Camelot."

There is a collective gasp from the council.

"_However,_ those caught using magic for unscrupulous purposes or with evil intent will be dealt with most severely. My newly-appointed Royal Advisor, Lord Merlin," Arthur motions toward his former servant, now decked out in finer garb than his usual tunic, trousers, and neck scarf, "will be personally reviewing any reports we receive of suspicious magic use. He has a wide knowledge base on these matters and will be our trusted ally as well as our most powerful weapon against those who practice black magic."

All eyes turn towards Merlin, sitting tall beside the king. His face is serious, proud without being haughty. He does not look like the clumsy servant to which they had become accustomed. Merlin nods solemnly, though his stomach feels like it's ready to expel his breakfast.

_"Okay, Merlin, here's the deal: You can stay. You can still be my advisor. I won't have you executed. Yet. But what this means is that your, ah, special gift will now be used to my advantage. Our advantage. The kingdom's advantage," Arthur had said, correcting himself twice due to the looks Gwen was shooting at him. "I'll lift the ban on magic, but you are responsible for helping me deal with any reports of suspicious activity."_

_ "This is a big responsibility, Merlin. An honor, really," Gwen added._

_ "I know. I won't disappoint you. Thank you, Arthur, Gwen."_

_ "Two more things," Arthur says, almost as an afterthought._

_ "Hmm?"_

_ "Find me a new servant. Not George. Until you get me a decent replacement that I won't want to throttle, you're still it, as well as my advisor."_

_ Merlin laughs. "Okay. And the other?"_

_ "Get yourself some decent clothes, will you? You're a noble now, and my personal advisor. Dress the part."_

"Um, forgive me, my lord," a council member speaks up.

"Yes, Lord Owen?"

"Are you telling us that your servant—"

"Former servant," Arthur corrects.

"_Former_ servant has magic?"

Arthur looks at Merlin, who nods.

"Yes, essentially, I am."

"And he's been given a pass?" Lord Owen does not look pleased.

"No. He's been given a promotion. One with a very large responsibility. He is expected to single-handedly prove me wrong about the practice of magic being evil. Lord Merlin is now not only my personal advisor, but his is the royal representative of the magical community. If there are any people left to constitute a community, that is. If anyone is found practicing dark magic, _he_ is expected to deal with them."

"Sire?"

"Lord Merlin has proven himself time and again to be a trustworthy ally. He has saved both the queen's and my lives more than once, and he has my complete trust. I would not have anyone else perform this duty for me."

"But he's just a servant; a commoner…" Owen protests, running out of cards to play.

Gwen's head turns sharply towards the lord, eyebrows raised. Arthur looks at him with fire in his eyes.

_Wrong thing to say, Owen,_ Merlin thinks, trying not to smile.

"Out."

"My lord?"

"You heard me. Out."

"But…"

"Guards," he says tiredly, waving his hand in Lord Owen's direction.

"Forgive me, Sire, I did not mean…" Owen starts to grovel as two guards approach. He stands before they reach him. "There's no need, Sirs."

"It is not my forgiveness you require, Owen," Arthur says, picking up a piece of parchment, pretending to read it as Owen backs out of the room.

"Accept my apologies, Lord Merlin, Queen Guinevere, I assure you I meant no disrespect…" he says. The guards close the door behind him.

"And, finally," Arthur says, putting down the parchment.

_There's more?_ Gwen thinks.

"Finally, next week is Queen Guinevere's birthday," he says, reaching his hand back for hers.

_Oh, no._

"We will be having a celebration and feast in her honor, and all will be welcome," he announces, lifting her hand to his lips, kissing it gently.

xXx

"Um, about yesterday…" Arthur starts while he and Guinevere have a late dinner in their chambers.

"What about yesterday?" Gwen asks, knowing full well what he's talking about. _I just want to torture him._

"When I came and got you?" he ventures.

"You mean when you rudely kidnapped me from my discussion with the cook about your dinners?"

He smiles sheepishly. "Sorry. I… I was, um, a little…"

"Anxious? Demanding? _Randy?_"

"Agitated is the word, I think you'll find," he scowls at her over the edge of his goblet.

"Oh, don't be cross," she says. "Arthur, love, I know exactly where your head was. You don't need to explain anything to me."

"Oh," he smiles a little, then scowls again. "So you were just messing with me just now. Just to watch me squirm."

"Me? Heavens, no," she says innocently, making doe eyes at him across her own goblet.

It is late, and they go to bed almost immediately after dinner. Gwen is tired and kisses Arthur gently, but he gets no further, though not for lack of trying.

She drifts off to sleep with a sly smile playing about her lips, curled into Arthur's arms.

Gwen wakes up. It is dark still, the small hours of the morning. Arthur is sprawled on his back, sleeping a very deep sleep, one hand raised over his head, taking up more than his fair share of the bed. Her eyes rove over his sleeping form. She notices a bulge beneath the covers, and she smiles, ready to put her fiendish little plan into action.

Her eyes drift back to the arm above his head, close to the bedpost. Grinning, she reaches for the belt of her dressing gown, pulling it free. _Long enough._

She walks on silent feet around to the other side of the bed, near his head, and wraps the belt around his wrist. Thankful that he is a heavy sleeper, she gently lifts the other hand, bringing it up with the other. She wraps the belt around this wrist, crossing it over the other. He continues snoring. She ties his wrists to the bedpost securely with a satisfied smirk.

She climbs back into bed and gently pulls the covers down, exposing his erection. Taking it in her hand, she holds it gently for a moment and watches him. He stops snoring and makes a whimpering noise in his throat.

Leaning forward, she takes him in her mouth, dropping her hand to hold him beneath, and she squeezes gently as she begins to move her mouth on him, sucking and licking.

"Ohhh…" Arthur is waking up. He lifts his head and sees his wife's dark curls as she does amazing things with her mouth. _Why can't I move my arms?_

"Guinevere," he chokes out, "you are cruel."

She hums in agreement, her mouth full of him. Leaning over, she plunges his entire length into her mouth, and her fingers tease his sensitive inner thighs.

"Oh, God!" he shouts hoarsely, writhing.

She sucks forcefully, driving him out of his mind as she raises and drops her head again and again, not seeming to need air.

Gwen swirls her tongue around the head of his cock before she bites it lightly, causing him to jerk.

"Guinevere…" he rasps, his hands clenching and unclenching uselessly, overcome with the need to touch her. _Need to touch her…_

She places him fully in her mouth again, licks the length of him with the tip of her tongue, and then takes him all in again. She sucks and licks and rubs and teases until he can take no more, and he comes forcefully, his seed washing down her throat, hot and sticky.

She kisses her way up his stomach to his chest, where she licks and nips playfully at his skin, tickling his hair, teasing his nipples with her teeth and tongue, making him groan. She makes her way to his neck, sucking at the sensitive skin there a bit. _Whoops. That's going to leave a mark,_ she thinks, stifling a giggle. _I think I'll let him discover that later._ She finally reaches his lips, where he greedily claims hers, frantic for some contact. He pulls at the bedpost again, and the wood groans slightly.

"Behave, Arthur, you don't want to break the bed," she chastises, moving to dip her tongue into his ear, sending a shiver down his body.

"Untie me, woman," he demands.

"No."

She scoots further up, straddling him, and places a breast in his mouth, which he takes greedily, suckling at her nipple, slicking his tongue across its already-stiff nub. He can feel the wetness between her legs on his stomach, and he bites her nipple, causing her to cry out. She pulls away for a moment, shifting.

"I want to touch you. Let me touch you," he begs, just before her other breast is dropped into his mouth. He moans into it and does as he is told, lavishing the same attention on this nipple, swirling his tongue around it, biting, kissing.

Gwen pulls away and slides down his torso, reaching behind her, finding him hard again. She continues to slide downward and spears herself on him with a sigh. He grunts as she rocks atop him, angling her body just right to maximize her own pleasure.

"You realize you're only denying yourself, you know," he tries again.

"And you realize that you have issues when it comes to being in control." She deliberately stops moving.

"What?"

"Trust me, Arthur," she coos, looking at him levelly before leaning down, pressing her breasts against him, moving her hips just slightly, teasing him.

"Oh, God, untie me," he begs.

"Shut up," she says sternly, but she smiles and grants him a kiss.

"Yes, ma'am." _Yes. I think I actually love it when she's forceful._

She grinds on him, sliding up and down on him, rubbing her breasts against his chest, as he groans and writhes, his hands still clutching empty air.

Veins stick out on his neck as he strains against the soft belt wrapped around his wrists, and Gwen increases her speed, close to her own climax. Suddenly she pulls herself off of him, and his body jerks in surprise. She reaches up and unties him, unable to take it herself anymore.

"Ah," he grins, flexing his shoulders, his wrists for just a moment before tackling her, his hungry palms reaching for every part of her at once. He rubs his hands over her breasts, down her stomach. He presses the heel of his hand against her and she pushes against it, moaning as he slips a finger inside.

"More," she tells him, and he adds a second finger to the first, slipping in and out of her as she presses against him.

"I want you… inside me… _now,_" she demands, and he obediently complies once again, removing his hand and replacing it with his manhood, slowly, deliberately tormenting her, pushing himself as deep as he can. She somehow manages to spread her legs even wider to allow him in further still.

Gwen wraps her legs around his waist, pushing him, making it clear that she is still in control though he is on top. She takes his hand and places it on her breast, and with the other hand she pulls his head down to hers where she kisses him forcefully, her tongue thrusting into his mouth just as he is thrusting into her below.

Her fingers tighten on his hair, pulling just hard enough.

"Oh—" he gasps, lifting his head.

"Faster," she orders.

"Yes."

A few seconds later, "Harder, Arthur."

"_Yes._" He answers fervently, finding he is relishing her control. _She can order me around like this any day._

Gwen grabs his face in her hands and locks her lips onto his again, hungry for him as he carries her over the edge. She tightens her legs around him as she pulls her lips away, crying out a hoarse shout of passion as she lets herself be carried away by the sweetness of her release.

"Oh…" she breathes, pulling him closer, pressing her face into his warm muscular neck just as he pushes in deep with his own climax, flooding into her with a strangled cry. She holds him tightly and he relaxes over her, collapsing breathless over her, into her arms.

Guinevere holds him, gently stroking his hair and kissing his ear. She caresses his back, fingers soft and loving.

"My beautiful husband," she whispers, kissing the top of his head. He smiles and snuggles into her.

They lay together, entwined, for a time, until finally Arthur realizes that he's probably crushing his pregnant wife and rolls them over so she is cradled in his arms.

"Wow," Arthur finally says. "You were…" he pauses, and, unable to come up with a better word, settles once again on, "_wow._"

She chuckles against his chest. "See, it's not so bad letting someone else be in charge, is it?"

"Love, you are welcome to take control any time you like."


	28. Chapter 28

_My Dear Queen Annis,_

_ As I'm sure you are aware, my reasons for sending escorts home with our young friend and his party were actually twofold. Yes, it was a gesture of good faith and extra protection for them, but I was also keen to gather information about his demeanor and how he interacts with his people._

_ The information my knights have brought back to me has been fascinating, and I wish to share it with you._

_ First and foremost, my men were much impressed with the king and queen. They found them to be gracious, regal, and kind. However, they were quite surprised at how familiar the king is with his knights. He often allows them to call him by his given name and speak freely to him as if he were their peer. He chats freely with them, even joking and laughing with them. He is very involved with them, personally overseeing their training; not afraid to get his hands dirty._

_ This familiarity does not in any way detract from the respect his knights have for him and his queen. One of my knights talked at length with one of his, and he learned a great deal about their loyalty to their sovereigns. This particular knight claims that he would serve no other king, and that he and any of the knights would gladly lay down their life for either of their rulers. Such is the level of love and respect the young king has of his people._

_ I will admit that much of the information my men received was at a local tavern, but both men corroborated the information I received. They claimed that there was nothing but positive words and good cheer from nobles and commoners alike._

_ Even that line is blurring; the line between noble and commoner. Many of his knights, his closest knights, were common-born, and word has it that he's just accepted three more into training that are the sons of a farmer._

_ Now, I tell you all this because, as one of the Old Guard to the other, I am much interested in your opinion. Is this the way the world is turning? Where a king can be a man of the people rather than above the people? What will become of the kingdom with this kind of hand, a hand that reaches out to the people? Time will out, I am sure, and I know we both will be watching with interest. It is very clear that he is not his father; should we be setting the young king and his kingdom as a model for the futures of our own kingdoms? Should we be guiding our heirs to follow this example?_

_ I am actually inclined to think so. The alliance of our three kingdoms will be strong indeed, and I thank you again for helping to repair the rift between us._

_ I am very curious about your opinion on this matter, and trust that you will, as always, be direct with your reply._

_Respectfully,_

_King Odin_

"Please, wait here for the reply and you may return with it presently," Annis says to Odin's messenger.

"Yes, my lady."

"Norah, please show him to the kitchens. I am sure he has an appetite."

"Thank you, my lady," the messenger bows, smiling as he follows the maid.

_Dearest King Odin,_

_ When I first met our young king, after I forgave him and got to know him, I recognized an indefinable quality in him. I told him that there was something about him that gave me hope for the future._

_ That being said, the information you have imparted to me does not surprise me. I am very interested in the future of their kingdom, and have already told them that I will be watching with interest._

_ My opinion of both the king and queen is very high indeed. I do feel that his methods and demeanor, though unconventional to our old eyes, are promising. The young king has much to offer this land, and we are wise to ally ourselves with them. He is young, he is charismatic, and he is strong. So, my direct answer is yes, I think we should look to his kingdom as a model and encourage our heirs to learn from his example. I have no doubt that there is truly a prosperous and fascinating time ahead for us all._

_Respectfully yours,_

_Queen Annis._

xXx

"Arthur, I don't need a big celebration," Gwen protests the next morning over breakfast.

"Well, you're getting one, and you're not changing my mind."

"I don't think you're going to win this one, Gwen," Merlin says.

"Don't help, Merlin," Gwen says.

"Really, did you need to announce it to the council, though?"

"Of course I did. How else would we let everyone know? I've got big plans going on, you know."

"Why does that worry me?"

"I'm helping, too," Merlin chimes in again.

"Doesn't make me feel any better."

Arthur turns to Gwen. "Guinevere. Don't worry. It'll be wonderful. I promise." He lifts her hand and kisses it.

"I don't need big and wonderful, Arthur," she tries again, but her voice is admitting defeat already.

"You're the queen. You deserve nothing less. Even if you were still a servant, you'd deserve nothing less, my love."

"I can't change your mind?"

"No."

She stands and goes to her vanity, picking up her brush. Faintly Arthur hears her muttering something about "stubborn men" and "control issues."

Arthur stands and goes to get his sword. Gwen waves Merlin over to her.

"Merlin," she says quietly to him, "I need your help with something. A surprise for Arthur. Find me later when he's training the knights."

"Sure. What is it?"

"What are you two ladies gossiping about back there?" Arthur calls. "Merlin, help me with this, will you? I'm supposed be on the training field."

xXx

"Drake, more finesse, not so stompy! You're not harvesting grain or dodging cowpats," Arthur corrects the recruit, striding amongst the men, who are paired off with swords.

"Gwaine, stop showing off," he says, slapping him on the back of his head as he passes.

He approaches Elyan, sparring with Winthrop beside Leon and Winston. Arthur stops between the two pairs and watches. "Stop, stop, stop," he says, waving his hands, and both pairs stop. "Twins: you're mirroring each other. Again. Cut it out; it's creepy."

"Sorry, Sire, we can't help it," Winston says.

Arthur sighs. "Winthrop, you and Elyan move down there," he points. "Maybe some distance will help."

Winthrop looks at Arthur, surprised. "You can tell us apart, my lord?" he asks.

"Well, yes. You're left handed. Move," he shoves him on the shoulder in a friendly way.

"Merlin, where are you going?" he sees Merlin walking away from the training field and turns toward him.

"Gwen wanted to see me!" he shouts back.

"Oh. Okay. Don't take long."

"No, no, like _this._ Here…" Arthur says, walking towards another pair, drawing his sword.

xXx

"Not going to be easy, Gwen," Merlin says, twisting his mouth to one side.

"I know. But I've been thinking about it a lot. We need to do this. He'll appreciate it more than he realizes," she says.

"We'll need to find a way to get him out of here for at least half a day."

"Obviously. We can put Gwaine on that detail. He'll come up with something," Gwen smiles.

"Probably. Can't do anything real big like a hunting trip, because we'll need a fair amount of men here."

"I know. Of course…" she pauses, thinking. "No. That wouldn't do. Can't abuse you like that."

Merlin laughs. "Oho, now you're thinking of using my magic for your own ends, is that it?"

"Perhaps. But no."

"I could do it, you know."

"Could you?"

He nods.

"No. I can't. It wouldn't be right."

"Okay. So: when?"

"We'll wait till after my birthday. That way he won't have a fit about my trying to divert attention away from my celebration."

"Which you would love to do," Merlin says. He knows his friend well.

"Which I would indeed love to do," she agrees.

Gwen stands and walks to the window. Merlin's eyes open wide. _Oh no!_ He mutters a hasty word under his breath, and with a flash of his eyes, the window is frozen in place.

She reaches for the handle and tries to open the window. "Hmm. Seems to be stuck. Merlin, can you help me with this, please?"

Merlin stands and joins her. He reaches for the handle and pulls. Stuck tight. Biting back a smile, he says, "I guess it is stuck, sorry." He shrugs helplessly.

Guinevere turns and fixes him in her stare. "Merlin. I know you can open this window."

_Shoot._ He sighs. _She is too smart._ "Can, but won't. Just… leave it be for now, Gwen."

"What are you two up to?"

"Not telling. All I will say is that window must remain closed for a short while."

"_How_ short?" she glares at him.

"Again, not telling. Open a different window if you're warm," he says dismissively, waving his hand at the many other windows in the room.

She stomps over to another window and flings it open. "I don't think I like the two of you conspiring against me," she pouts.

"We're not conspiring against you, Gwen," he laughs. "Okay, we're definitely conspiring, but it's not against you. You know normally I would be on your side every time." He crosses to her and puts his hands on her shoulders.

"Yes, I know that, Merlin. Thank you, you are always such a good friend to me, and I don't say it enough," she says, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"Well, you say it more than Arthur does," he jokes, laughing.

She laughs with him, then stretches her neck and sits back down.

"Tired, Gwen?"

"A little. Probably could do with a rest."

"Trouble sleeping last night?" Merlin asks, concerned.

"Um, something like that, yes," she says, avoiding his gaze.

"Ah…" Merlin says, blushing, and Gwen laughs.

"You asked," she says. "Oh – here, I'll change the subject."

"Thank you," Merlin says.

"Arthur's new servant. Any ideas?"

"Well, he specified 'not George.' And he also specified someone he won't want to throttle. So that leaves out just about everyone in Camelot, including me. Heh," he chuckles, "I think you would be the only one who accurately fits that description, Gwen."

"I would not be his servant even if I were paid handsomely," she laughs again, harder this time. "I don't envy you this task, Merlin."

"Yeah, it's a toss up as to which will be worse: finding Arthur a new servant or having to dispense justice on my first practitioner of dark magic," he says wryly.

"So do you know of anyone _outside_ Camelot, then? Worked out for you."

"Hmm. Maybe… There was a young man back in Ealdor. I worked with him on rebuilding part of his family's house while I was back there. Haylan. Good lad, hard working. Restless. I got the impression that he wants out of Ealdor. He hung on my every word when I was telling him about Camelot."

"Sounds promising. Shall we send word to him?"

Merlin thinks. "Yes, I think so. I'll draft something up and send a messenger."

"Well, one problem solved, hopefully," she moves to stand, and Merlin does so as well, offering his hand.

"Get some rest, Gwen," he says, and she nods. Merlin turns to walk out the door, and the banner on the wall bearing the Pendragon crest catches his eye. "Gwen?" he says, turning back.

"Yes?"

"I think I may have thought of a way to distract Arthur for a while when the time comes."

"Oh, good."

xXx

Arthur returns from training to find Guinevere fast asleep on their bed. He knows lunch will be arriving soon, and while he doesn't want to wake her, he knows she needs to eat.

He walks to the bedside, gazing down at her sleeping form. _I don't deserve her. She was born a servant, I a prince, but somehow she is too good for me. And she doesn't even realize it._

He sits carefully on the bed, gently sweeping a curl from her forehead. _My lovely wife. Wife. It's been months now and I still can't believe it. All the trials, all the pain, all the obstacles trying to keep us apart are nothing but dust now. Faint memories. I would still give up everything if she asked me._

"How long are you going to sit there staring at me?" Gwen mutters, her voice sleepy.

"For the rest of my life, if I have my way," Arthur answers, lying down beside her and pulling her into his arms.

"And you usually do," she answers, smiling at his sweet face next to her on the pillow.

"Hmm. Seems to me that you are the one who usually wins around here," he says, smirking.

"Only because you're a pushover," she tucks her face into his neck, snuggling closer.

"Just for you, my love. No one else." His hand drops down to her stomach. "When are you going to start showing?"

_He sounds like he wants to see my belly grow large,_ she thinks. "Not until about the fourth month. But Fira says I may show a little before, due to my small size."

He smiles and rubs his hand on her still-flat stomach. "I can't wait. I'm sure it sounds awful to you, but I really want to see your belly grow large and round with my child."

"I know. You're twisted, you are," she teases.

"And you love me anyway," he reminds her, pulling her face towards his gently for a few soft kisses. "It's just… I don't know what I'm trying to say. I'm looking forward to it because…"

"Because you're a proud man who is very pleased with himself to have planted an heir in his wife and being able to see my big fat belly—"

"It's not fat, it's a baby," he corrects her.

"Regardless. Seeing it is just confirmation that you've really done it. It'll be out there for everyone to see. You're just proud of your accomplishment and can't wait for our son to get here."

"It's killing me that we're keeping it a secret," he admits, burying his face in her hair.

"Your idea," she reminds him. "And soon enough. Fira says that the first three months are the most perilous; it's when the most problems happen. After that if anything happens, the baby is usually strong enough to cope with… most anything, I guess."

"Interesting."

"And don't forget, our son has been protected. So he's already got a head start."

xXx

"Why have you summoned me, young warlock?" Kilgarrah the Great Dragon asks, his massive head angling down towards Merlin, waiting in the familiar clearing in the forest outside Camelot.

"I have news."

"Is this about Queen Guinevere being with child or King Arthur lifting the ban on magic?"

_I should have known._ "Well, I was _going_ to tell you about Arthur lifting the ban on magic, but apparently there isn't much that escapes your attention."

The dragon laughs, his familiar throaty chuckle bringing a small smile to Merlin's face.

"This is good news indeed, Merlin. However, your new responsibilities are not to be taken lightly at all."

"Yes, I know," he says, the smile slipping from his face. "He's basically appointed me not only his personal advisor, but head of magical law enforcement as well."

"A small price to pay for getting to share your considerable gifts with the world," Kilgarrah says wisely.

Merlin nods.

"And how did our young king take the news?"

"Not bad. For him."

"How long did he avoid you?" the dragon asks.

_I think he's smirking. Can dragons smirk?_ "Almost two days. And then I hunted him down, even though I was supposed to wait for him to summon me."

Kilgarrah chuckles again. "Only you would be able to get away with such behavior, Merlin. You and the queen, of course. Arthur is wise enough to not let those whom he loves and trusts slip through his fingers."

"I'd like for him to meet you."

"Do you think he is ready?"

"Not right now. In a few weeks. He doesn't yet know that I'm a dragonlord. And that you're still alive. I'll have to break that to him first," he says, smiling sheepishly.

"So you did not divulge everything, then," the dragon says.

"No, I didn't think he could handle _everything_ yet. He doesn't know about my 80-year-old disguise, either," Merlin laughs.

Kilgarrah smiles. "I'm not sure which bit of information is more dangerous for you to tell him. That I live, or that the old man is you."

"I guess I'll be finding that out," Merlin says with a sigh.

"So, young warlock. When will this meeting take place?"

"Not entirely sure yet. I'll be in touch."


	29. Chapter 29

Queen Guinevere's birthday

"Happy birthday, Love," Arthur whispers into Guinevere's ear, kissing it softly. Gwen scrunches in her sleep, not wanting to wake yet.

"Go away," she mumbles, pulling the blanket over her head.

"But I have a gift for you," he says, pulling her closer, into the circle of his arms.

"You gave me that last night. Twice," she says.

He laughs. "Not _that._ Well, I mean, unless…"

"_Arthur._"

"Honestly. Your first birthday gift is waiting for you."

She flops the bedcovers back and looks at him. Arthur is grinning and immediately leans in to kiss her before she can protest again. He starts out softly, only intending to persuade her to wake up, but she melts into him, kissing back, her body responding to his touch and his kiss, and he cannot help but deepen the kiss, pulling her over him and teasing her lips apart with his tongue.

"Whoa," he gasps, breaking away suddenly, remembering himself. "Sorry, got carried away," he says taking a deep breath while she giggles at him.

He rolls to the side, depositing her back on the mattress, and smacks her backside playfully. "Get up and put something on."

"Yes, Sire," she says saucily, swinging her feet down to the floor and reaching for her dressing gown.

"So?" she asks, looking around.

"One minute," Arthur says, taking her hand. "All right, Merlin," he calls, and the door opens. Merlin and Elyan enter the chambers, carrying a beautiful cushioned chaise between them, upholstered in Pendragon red to match the room.

"Oh, Arthur, it's lovely," Gwen sighs, watching as the two men carry it to the window. The window that Gwen had begun to think of as _the forbidden window._

"That's just a small part, Love," Arthur says. "Merlin, the window, if you please?"

Merlin nods, and as Arthur reaches his hand out for Gwen to lead her to the chaise, he mutters a word and frees the window latch again.

"All set," he declares, walking over with Elyan.

"Ah, so the mystery will be revealed at last," she says, looking sideways at Merlin, who at least has the decency to blush.

"Open it," Arthur says. _He's like a little boy,_ Gwen thinks with a smile as she reaches for the window, which now pulls easily open.

She looks out, and sees that the green field that she normally admires has been planted over with flowers. "Oh…" she gasps, gazing down at the mosaic of purples and whites and yellows blowing gently in the breeze.

"Elyan helped. This is from both of us, actually," Arthur says, indicating his brother-in-law.

She stands and hugs her brother. "Thank you," she says, kissing his cheek.

"And there's more," Elyan says. "I told Arthur how much you liked to grow things yourself, too, so—"

"I get my own garden?" Gwen guesses, looking at Arthur, who nods, smiling. "Oh!" she hugs Elyan one more time and then tackles her husband, still sitting on the bench.

"Oof!" Arthur exclaims, his arms coming around her. He laughs as she squeezes him and peppers his face with kisses.

"I guess you were right, Elyan," Arthur laughs.

"Thank you, Arthur," Gwen settles down and kisses him sweetly, his face between her hands.

Arthur glances out the window. "Hmm," he frowns.

"What's wrong?" Gwen asks.

"Flowers. Not blooming enough."

"_Not blooming enough?_" Gwen repeats, looking at him incredulously.

"Merlin? Can you, ah, help us out, here? That field should be a lot prettier for my lovely queen."

Merlin steps forward and peers out the window. "Hmm. That's a tough one, that is. Making flowers bloom, I don't know if I can handle that complex…"

"_Merlin._"

Merlin clears his throat, extends his hand out towards the field, and says, "Blósma." _Bloom._

As they watch, the colors already present in the field increase and brighten as budding flowers burst forth into bloom and fading ones revive to join their already fully-blooming brothers and sisters. A gentle breeze sweeps across the field and the flowers sway as if a giant hand is brushing across them.

Gwen turns from the window, smiling broadly, eyes misted. She kisses Elyan's and Merlin's cheeks, then Arthur, throwing his arms around his neck.

xXx

The courtyard has been turned into a carnival. There are food stands and entertainers, flowers are everywhere and children are running underfoot. The gates are wide open so that all may join the festivities.

Arthur and Gwen stroll the courtyard together, smiling at their subjects. One of the pages is trailing behind them, collecting gifts given to the queen.

"Thank you, Wilhelmina," Gwen says, receiving a bunch of flowers from the blacksmith's wife. "Oh, and the bread was delicious, by the way."

The woman blushes. "Thank you, my lady," she says, bobbing to her before turning to yell at her children to stop bothering the fire eater.

Gwen laughs, and squeezes Arthur's arm. She waves at Merlin, who is watching a magician keenly, smirking all the while. Merlin waves back and turns back to watch the magician some more. _Tricks and sleight-of-hand only,_ he thinks, pushing away thoughts of causing mischief.

"Don't even think about it, wizard," Arthur mutters into his ear as he and Gwen pass behind him.

"What? I wasn't…" he protests, but Arthur is walking away, laughing.

They pause to watch some minstrels playing a merry tune, and a man dressed as a jester bows theatrically before Gwen, offering his hand. She laughs and takes it, attempting to dance with the man, but he continually and intentionally misses the steps, falling over himself, kicking his feet high in the air, collapsing onto onlookers who catch him and throw him back in. Guinevere gives up trying to dance and instead claps her hands to the music with the rest of the crowd, laughing happily.

"Excellent party, Arthur," Gwaine says, sidling up to the king, dented mug in hand.

"Thank you, Gwaine, I trust you find the mead to your liking?"

He hoists his mug in salute. "Always." He takes a long pull, and then the minstrels start another song. "Hold this." Gwaine thrusts his cup at Arthur, wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve, and struts up to Gwen.

"My lady, a dance, if you please?" he bows to her, offering his hand.

"Of course, good sir," she gives her hand, which he kisses, and they begin the dance.

"He actually dances quite well," Arthur says to Percival, who has wandered over.

"He's had just the right amount of drink," the knight observes.

"What's that?"

"Not enough, and he's just terrible. Too much, and he's clumsy and, um, grabby. If you take my meaning."

"I do."

"Somewhere in the middle he can actually dance," Percival laughs. He lifts a chicken leg to his lips and takes a bite.

Arthur watches Gwen, enjoying watching her graceful steps, actually content to let Gwaine dance with her. Glancing up at Percival, he asks, "How many chickens gave their lives in honor of the queen's birthday, do you think?"

Percival chuckles and shrugs. "More than a few, my lord. This is leg number four for me, so there are at least two out there that can no longer walk, at the very least."

Arthur laughs at this, slapping Percival on the back.

Suddenly there is a shriek from the sky. It sounds vaguely hawk-like, but louder, more sinister, echoing through the air.

An immense black bird swoops down into the courtyard, disrupting the entertainment. Everyone scatters away from it, running for cover and yelling for loved ones.

It perches on top of a platform, jerkily turning its head this way and that in the way that birds have. Searching the crowd. Looking for someone.

Knights and guards draw swords, and some scramble for crossbows. Arthur holds his hand up. No man moves until he gives his say. At the moment, he just wants to see, take its measure, find out why it is here.

Eyes not leaving the bird, he says quietly, "Guinevere?"

"She's behind me, Sire," Percival's voice a short distance behind him.

"Thank you."

Gwaine, in fact, shoved Gwen behind Percival. He is now standing guard on one side of her. Elyan had rushed to her other side as soon as he saw Gwaine's actions.

Arthur steps slowly towards the bird. Vaguely he realizes that Merlin is right beside him.

"What is it?" he asks Merlin.

"It's a Blackfeather."

"What is it doing here?"

"I don't know. They're very rare, and very nasty. So I hear."

Arthur raises an eyebrow at him.

The bird fixes Arthur in its beady stare. "Arthur Pendragon," it says, its voice hollow and eerie.

Arthur stops walking. "What do you wish of me, Bird?"

"It is not I who wish anything. I am merely a messenger."

"Who's message do you bring?"

"Whom do you think?" it asks cryptically, angling its great head.

"Morgana," Arthur answers, reaching his hand slowly down for his sword.

"Do not bother with your trinket there, King. It will do you no good."

Merlin's eyes drift down and he sees that Arthur is wearing Excalibur today. He bites back a smile. _That's what you think, Bird._

Arthur drops his hand. "What is your message?"

"The Lady wishes you to know that she knows you gather allies around you, and they will do you no good. Her powers grow stronger every day, and she has a new, very powerful ally of her own."

"If you're talking about Lord Roderick…"

"I am not. That particular pawn has outlived his usefulness and has been disposed of. Do not presume to think you can trick me into giving away any information, King."

"Indeed," Arthur says coolly.

"The Lady also wishes you to know that the child your queen carries is not safe. Do not be so foolish as to think that she will be merciful on an infant."

_Again, you are mistaken, Bird,_ Merlin thinks again.

"I see," Arthur answers noncommittally, ignoring the surprised gasps from the crowd around them. _So much for keeping it a secret._

He glances sideways at Merlin. _How do we get rid of this thing?_ Merlin nods very slightly.

"Is that all, Bird? I grow weary of your disruption," Arthur tries a new tactic. He's tired of playing nice.

The bird lifts its beak, straightening up, and looks around. "Where is your queen?"

"She is around somewhere. You need only deal with me." He steps forward.

The bird squawks derisively, then cocks its head to the side again, as if having a thought.

Merlin mutters under his breath, hoping no one is paying him any attention.

"I think I should like something to eat…" it turns its head, surveying the crowd, looking at the people hiding behind the temporary structures, mothers hiding their children behind their skirts, the knights standing, fully alert yet apparently helpless. "Some lovely fat children might be a nice—"

The blackfeather's words are cut off by another sound. A terrifying sound to most of Camelot.

Dragon wings cutting through the air.

"What now?" Arthur yells, making a beeline for Percival and Guinevere. "Merlin!" he yells.

Merlin stands perfectly still, the only motionless figure in the chaotic courtyard as Kilgarrah swoops down, plucks the blackfeather up in its talons, nods ever so briefly at Merlin, and flies off.

They hear the dragon flap away. A few seconds later the people of Camelot hear the blackfeather shriek, but its cry is cut gruesomely short.

Merlin turns and looks at Arthur, who is striding toward him. "You have got some serious explaining to do," he snaps at the wizard, his face stony.

"Arthur," Merlin says calmly, "later. Announce to the people that the celebration is to continue. We will not be disturbed again." He holds the king's gaze until Gwen steps forward and places her hand on Arthur's elbow.

"It's all right, Arthur. We'll talk about it later. This is a happy day," Gwen says quietly.

They watch as Arthur's glare softens. The muscles in his jaw twitches a few times as he clenches his teeth.

He looks around; everyone is watching him; waiting for his word. He takes a deep breath and hops up on the platform recently vacated by the blackfeather.

"The queen's birthday celebration is to continue. I can assure you that there will be no further disruptions," he says, glancing quickly at Merlin, who nods again. "Minstrels, something happy, if you please," he says, waving his hand at them. They slowly raise their instruments and begin to play as Arthur hops down and returns to Gwen.

They resume their circuit of the courtyard and gradually the people come out of their hiding places. Gwaine finds his discarded mug, upset in the commotion. He swings his arm around Elyan's shoulders and half drags him along with him to get his mug refilled.

xXx

Merlin is sitting on the steps of the palace, overlooking the now-empty courtyard. It is late; the feast is over. Arthur has hardly spoken to him since the dragon appeared. _I'm not worried, though. He's not Uther. I have to trust him, just as he has to trust me. That's the only way we'll get anything accomplished._

"Merlin." Arthur's voice drifts down to him.

"Arthur," Merlin replies, not turning around.

"That was the great dragon." He sits beside Merlin on the step.

"Yes."

"The one you told me I killed."

"Yes."

"I presume that this is one of those tidbits of information that you felt I wasn't ready to know about before?"

"Yes."

"Care to explain?"

"You didn't kill him."

"_Obviously._"

"I sent him away."

"And you expected him to respect that? To obey you?"

"Arthur, perhaps it escaped your attention that the dragon _helped_ us today," he says, turning to look at the king.

"It did not go unnoticed. And that is the only reason why I'm not shouting at you right now."

Merlin sighs. "Arthur, you remember Balinor, the dragonlord?"

"Of course."

"He was the last one. _Was._ Now it's me."

"_You_ are a dragonlord?"

"Yes. So when I ordered Kilgarrah away that night, he had no choice but to obey me."

"So… how did you get to be a dragonlord?" Arthur's brows knit in confusion. "Did Balinor… give the power to you just before he died? Did he know you had magic?"

Merlin looks down, the memory still painful. "In a way. The powers of the dragonlord are passed down. From father to son."

Arthur looks at Merlin. "Balinor was your father?"

Merlin nods, still looking down, surreptitiously wiping a tear from his eye. "I only found out right before we went looking for him."

"Did he know?"

"Not until I told him."

"Whoa. I'm… I'm sorry, Merlin. Now I understand your tears…"

Merlin nods again; wipes his eyes again. "I didn't become a dragonlord until he died. That is the only way. If I have a son one day, it will pass to him when I die."

"And if not…?"

"Then I really am the last one."

"So, then… you summoned him this afternoon?"

Merlin nods. "It seemed logical at the time. Got rid of that blasted bird. Showed you that the dragon is our ally. Made a point to Morgana."

"Heh," Arthur laughs dryly, once. "The dragon is our friend?"

"Yes. He's helped us on more than one occasion. You just never knew about it."

"Example?"

"When Agravaine came and chased us out of Ealdor. Kilgarrah torched almost an entire battalion for us."

"Did he kill Agravaine?"

"No. I did."

"_You?_"

Merlin nods. "And a half-dozen of Helios' men as well. In the caves. When I left you."

Arthur is stunned. He knew that Agravaine had been killed, but did not have the details. _Merlin did it. Okay, I have to know._

"Merlin, exactly how powerful are you?" Arthur asks.

Merlin finally looks up, and sniffles. "You know, I don't know. Seeing as how I've not been really allowed to use my powers, I haven't had much opportunity to test them."

"True," Arthur allows with a slight nod.

"I know one thing. As I age, as I learn, my powers grow. Even from the time when I first arrived here I've noticed a difference. You see, some people have to study magic, learn how to wield it. Like Gaius. He studied. Some people have magic lying dormant within them, manifesting at some point in their lives, like Morgana. Or sometimes not at all. And some people are born with it and can wield it from day one."

"Like you."

"Like me. It's just there, waiting at my beck and call." He glances up at a nearby torch that is floundering, its flame dying. Arthur follows his gaze, and with hardly an effort, Merlin's eyes flash and the torch springs back to life, the flame bright and hot.

"Five years ago that would have taken effort," Merlin says.

Arthur stares.

"From what Kilgarrah – that's the dragon's name – has told me, I would surmise that I am indeed quite powerful."

"Okay," Arthur says, a little uneasy now.

"I mean, I threw Agravaine and about six other men across that cavern, and I hardly even broke a sweat," he muses.

"Merlin…"

"It did take two blows to get Agravaine _permanently_ down, though…"

"Merlin!"

"What?"

"Enough! You're making me nervous!" Arthur says, irritated with himself.

Merlin laughs. "Arthur, I'm still the same person."

"No, you're not."

"I am. Promise. I may not be the bumbling servant with a tendency to prattle on any more, but I'm still _me._ I'm still your friend. I always will be."

Arthur puts his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "I know. Still adjusting."

"How's Gwen?"

"Exhausted. Once the bird let the cat out of the bag—"

Merlin guffaws at this, and Arthur cannot help but laugh as well.

"About the baby," he continues, "the birthday celebration took a turn and _everyone_ wanted to congratulate us and wish us well. Guinevere nearly fell asleep on my arm walking up to our chambers."

"She'll be able to sleep tomorrow. You won't be waking her up again."

"No, and neither will you, understand?"

Merlin nods. _Perhaps I can have a bit of a lie-in myself._

"I've sent for a new servant for you," Merlin says.

"Sent for? From where?"

"Ealdor."

"Relative of yours?" he asks raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

Merlin laughs. "No. A young man I met while I was visiting Mum. Seemed eager to spread his wings and get out of Ealdor. Was keen on hearing about Camelot."

"George will be crushed."

Merlin laughs again. "He'll get over it."

"And you?" Arthur says, teasing him.

"I'm already over it."

The two men sit quietly on the steps, watching as a few wilted flower blossoms left from the carnival blow across the stones.

"He wants to meet you," Merlin says suddenly.

"The new servant? Of course."

"No, not him. The dragon."


	30. Chapter 30

"My lady, um, the laces are not going to reach," Daisy says, dropping her hands while Guinevere sighs.

"This is the third gown!"

"Well, you are with child," the maid says.

"Yes, but should my gowns be too tight already?"

"Each pregnancy is different, my lady," Daisy says tactfully.

"And how would you know?" Gwen shoots over her shoulder.

"Just what I hear," she says sheepishly, taking the gown away to pick through the wardrobe for another.

"I'm sorry, Daisy, I didn't mean to snap at you," Gwen says, "I know it's bound to happen."

"Try this one," the maid comes back around behind the screen with another dress, a green one that Gwen doesn't really like because it was always a little big.

"Yeah, this'll probably fit now," she sighs.

"I don't know why you never got it altered, my lady. It's a beautiful gown."

"It is too similar to one Morgana used to favor," Gwen frowns. "So I never bothered to fix it. Or have it fixed."

"Not dressed _yet?_" Arthur has just come back into the room.

"I'm having trouble finding a dress that fits, I'll have you know," Guinevere calls crossly from behind the screen.

"Really?"

"Don't get all excited, it's not really showing yet. I'm just a little…"

"Fuller," Daisy supplies.

"Yes. _Fuller_ than usual. Thank you, Daisy."

"You're welcome," she says, finishing the laces. Gwen turns around. "You look beautiful, my lady."

"You're sure?"

"Would I lie?"

"You'd better," Gwen says with a smile and steps out where Arthur is waiting.

"That's one I haven't seen," Arthur says, holding his hand out to her.

"I don't like this one, that's why. I'm only wearing it because it fits," she scowls. "Daisy, would you send the royal seamstress up this afternoon?" she asks, finally giving up.

"Yes, my lady," Daisy says, curtseying and leaving. _Just in time,_ she thinks, seeing Arthur reach down to caress his wife's belly just as she makes her exit. _He is so sweet with her, but that doesn't mean I should stand around and watch._

xXx

Arthur and Gwen stroll out to the courtyard, where Merlin is already waiting.

"Ah, not too late then," Arthur says as they approach, and Merlin turns.

"He should be here soon," he says, smiling at Gwen. "Gwen, you look especially lovely this morning."

"Thank you, Merlin," she says, still chastising herself over her earlier vanity. _I never worried about such things before,_ she thinks. _And besides, I _am _pregnant. If there's ever a time to eat whatever I want and embrace getting bigger, this is it._

"You have a…" he furrows his brow, "_glow_ about you. Baby Boy must be very happy today."

"I don't see any glowing, Merlin," Arthur says. "I mean, she is always the most beautiful woman in any room, but _glowing?_"

Gwen laughs. "He's merely referring to my healthy appearance, my, um, _fuller_ stature, Arthur," she explains.

"No. You're seriously glowing," Merlin says.

"Is this a magic thing?" Gwen asks.

"Probably. When I placed that protection over him, we sort of communicated. We're linked, in a way."

"Merlin…" Arthur says, his voice taking on a warning tone.

"Don't worry, Arthur, you're still his second favorite," Merlin laughs.

"Second?"

"Gwen is first, obviously."

"Ah. Right."

"So you can feel what he's feeling?" Gwen asks.

"Yes and no. I can see it in you. You're glowing: he's happy."

"And when he's unhappy?"

"Don't know yet, it hasn't happened."

"Merlin, if this child is born with magic, I'm going to—"

"Accept it and love him, Arthur. That's what you'll do," Gwen says, her eyes narrowing at him.

"_After_ Merlin spends a couple days in the stocks," Arthur warns.

"Yeah, as if you could keep me there," Merlin shoots back, and Gwen laughs loudly at this.

"Ah, here he is," Merlin says, laughing with Gwen at the scowling Arthur. He steps forward to greet his young friend.

"Be nice," Gwen says quietly to Arthur, leaning up to kiss him. A bribe.

"I'm always nice," Arthur protests, and Gwen gives him that look again. "All right, perhaps not _always._"

She leans up and kisses him once more, a little longer. A promise.

"Mmm, I'm feeling nice now," he mutters.

"Sire, may I present Haylan, son of Bavol and Ingrith of Ealdor. They are chicken farmers and my mother's neighbors."

Haylan bows to Arthur. "I am honored to meet you, my lord," he says.

Arthur looks him over. _Skinny. Are all the young men in Ealdor so scrawny? But he looks strong. That's a rather impressive-sized pack he's got there, and seems to be carrying it easily. Tall, about Merlin's height. He'll probably do._ "My wife, Queen Guinevere," Arthur introduces Gwen, and Haylan bows again.

"My lady, it is a privilege," he says.

_Polite, too,_ Arthur thinks, a little impressed.

"Merlin, Haylan will be taking your room in Gaius's quarters," Arthur says.

"But…"

"Lord Merlin," Arthur clarifies, using his new title to remind him, "you will be taking your own rooms in the palace. Gaius still needs assistance, someone to run errands for him as you did. Haylan will simply be stepping in your place as both my servant and Gaius's assistant."

"Oh," Merlin is stunned. _I get my own rooms? In the castle? My own?_

"I presume this is acceptable, Merlin?" Arthur asks. "Gaius has already agreed, and your things are being moved right now, so if it's not…"

"What?" Merlin asks, thinking of the things he has stashed in his room. "I have some… _things_ I'll need to collect, Arthur."

"Yes, yes, I suspect you have a few magical items stashed around under the floorboards or something. Go get them," Arthur says casually, waving his hand. Merlin scurries off.

"Arthur," he calls back, "where are my new rooms?"

"Just follow the servants moving your stuff, Cabbage Head. Some books are being brought up from the archives for you as well, by the way."

"_Questionable_ books?" Merlin smiles hopefully.

"Indeed," Arthur answers with a nod. "Now, Haylan," Arthur turns back to his new servant, "how are your boot-polishing skills?"

Haylan thinks a moment, eyes wide. _What?_ "Um, above average, Sire?"

"Haylan, he's teasing you," Gwen says, laying her hand on the boy's arm.

"No, I wasn't," Arthur says.

"Come, we'll show you to Gaius. He's very wise and kind. You will learn a lot from him," Gwen says, and she takes Arthur's arm.

"Do you know armor?" Arthur tries again.

"A bit. I'm a fast learner, my lord."

"Well, you can't be any worse than Merlin was, then. You at least appear to already know your right from your left."

Haylan looks at Gwen again, and she smiles reassuringly. "You'll get used to him," she whispers.

"What was that?" Arthur asks.

"Hmm? I'm sorry, what?" Gwen asks innocently.

"Don't play coy with me, Wife," he says, but his eyes are twinkling despite his best efforts.

"This way, Haylan. You'll find your way around soon enough," she says, ignoring Arthur.

xXx

Guinevere sighs, sitting on her new chaise lounge by the window, looking out over her field. _My field,_ she thinks, smiling at the sweetness of her husband and her brother.

She looks down at her hands while she idly picks the dirt out from under her fingernails, enjoying the warm breeze wafting in as it blows the tendrils of curls playing about her neck.

_I had forgotten how much I enjoyed tending a garden,_ she thinks, scowling at a particularly stubborn fleck of dirt beneath her thumbnail. She'd spent a large portion of the afternoon exploring the plot of freshly-turned dirt, dark and soft, fertile; ready to receive something and help it grow.

_Too late in the season to start seed,_ she had lamented, _but there's next spring to plan for._ The royal gardeners have been very good about giving her divisions from some of the plants around the grounds. Some lavender had gone in straight away. She used it in her baths, drying it and steeping it in oil until it is infused with its unique scent; blending it into her soaps, and just using dried bunches to freshen the air. Daisies, another favorite, in another spot. _I'll have to make a list._

Lost in her thoughts, she doesn't hear Arthur enter. He sees her sitting there, her legs out to one side, facing away from him, bare feet sticking out from beneath the hem of her dress, their little brown toes peeking at him.

Arthur walks silently forward, watching her as she gazes out the window, lost in her thoughts. His eyes track the line from her shoulder, down to her waist, appreciating where her hip curves up and around.

Gwen turns, laying flat against the raised end of the bench, throwing her arm across her forehead, her eyes closed. Sighing, she extends her legs out straight in front of her, stretching out her legs, flexing her toes.

Arthur advances, soundlessly, studying his wife's form on the bench. _Her stomach does look a little rounder. Or perhaps I just want it to be so. Only one way to find out._

He reaches her, kneels down next to the bench and drops his head, placing a kiss on her stomach.

"Oh!" she exclaims, jumping at the surprise. She can feel the warmth from his lips through the material of her dress, and her hand drops to tangle in his hair as he turns his head, resting it on her belly, looking up at her.

"Hello," he says, smiling at her.

"You startled me," she says, tugging a lock of his hair, but not hard.

"That was the plan," he grins, turning to kiss her stomach again. He lifts his head and places his palm there, softly, touching, feeling. Exploring.

"What are you doing?"

"Um, measuring, I think. There is a little more here, my love."

She sighs. "I know."

"It's wonderful," he says, dropping another kiss just below her navel.

"You're odd."

"You're beautiful."

She smiles at him, giving up, and he climbs up onto the chaise with her, over her, a smug little smirk on his face as it descends to hers. He kisses her softly, slowly, taking his time. His tongue languidly caresses hers, drawing it forth, making her sigh into him as her fingers track through his hair.

He nibbles gently at her lips a bit before kissing down to her collarbone. She arches her head back and he traces the lines of her neck with his lips and tongue, sucking reverently at her throat.

"Arthur…" she whispers, her hands trailing down his back, pausing to run across his backside for a moment or two before moving around to the front to undo his belt.

He chuckles into her breasts as he feels her hands on his rear, loving her attention and boldness. _So glad she was never taught to be a "proper" lady in the bedroom. I would have had fun un-teaching her, though,_ he thinks.

She drops his belt and snakes her hands back around him and up, under his shirt, feeling the skin of his back beneath her palms, fingers tracing the outlines of the muscles, the scars. _He is always so warm,_ she thinks, pulling him closer.

His hips drop and she feels his hardness against her thigh. It pulls a smile at the corner of her lips, and she sits up further, allowing him to slip his hands behind her to unlace her dress.

xXx

"The most important rule is if that door is closed, _knock,_" Merlin says to Haylan as the two men walk through the corridors toward the royal chambers.

"Okay," Haylan nods, his brows knitting slightly.

Merlin pauses outside the doors, and a feeling stops his hand as it is rising to knock. "Oh. Actually, before you knock, listen a minute," he says quietly.

"Why?"

"Because, well, um…" Merlin pauses. _How to put this?_ "King Arthur chose to marry for love. And he and Gwen really love each other. _A lot._"

Haylan blushes just slightly, and Merlin knows the boy is getting the picture. "But surely, it's the middle of the afternoon…" he starts to say, but stops when they hear a soft moan from the other side of the door.

"Does not matter," Merlin says, trying not to smile as Haylan's blush deepens. "Clearly they are not interested in dinner at the moment," he whispers, lifting his hand to Haylan's shoulders to steer him away from the doors.

"They have shared quarters, which is a tricky thing to deal with at times," Merlin explains as they walk away.

"They do?" Haylan is surprised.

Merlin nods. "The trickiest time is mornings. You must wait until the door is opened. _Don't knock._ Usually Gwen does opens the door, as she is accustomed to rising early. She'll get up and the door will be opened just a crack when she is, um, decent."

Haylan blushes again.

"I know it seems scandalous, but you'll have to get used to the sight of the queen in her dressing gown."

"What?"

"Trust me, she's very proper. You won't see anything you shouldn't. But I just wanted you to know that occasionally she may be in her dressing gown in their quarters. And Arthur's socks sometimes as well."

"His socks?"

"She says her feet get cold," Merlin laughs.

xXx

Arthur slides Gwen's shift down from her body, taking it in hungrily, looking for any visible signs of her pregnancy.

"I know what you're doing," she says to him, smiling.

"Yes, I'm removing your shift," he grins.

"You're looking at my stomach."

"That, too." He tosses the shift aside and it lands on top of her discarded gown. He starts to rejoin her on the chaise and she quirks her head to the side, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" he asks.

"Trousers, my king. Off," she waves her hand at his lower half in a very queenly manner.

He laughs at the command, and obeys happily before kneeling between her knees and leaning forward to kiss her breasts, lavishing loving attention on them while she sighs contentedly.

Arthur kisses his way upward, pausing to nibble at her neck a bit more on his way to her lips.

"Don't leave a mark this time, Arthur, I would like to…" she pauses, gasping lightly as he presses himself against her, "…at least have the option of wearing my hair… oh!" he pushes into her slowly and without warning, his lips curving into a sly smile, "…up," Gwen finally finishes her sentence.

Arthur pulls back, almost completely out, and slides back in; his movements deliberately slow, languid. His lips reach hers and he kisses her the same way, savoring her lips and tongue.

He makes a few more leisurely strokes, then withdraws from her. _What is he doing?_ she wonders as he returns his lips to her breasts, his hands sliding down her body, hot and coarse against her soft skin.

"I love how your skin feels," he whispers gruffly against her, his hands roving more to illustrate his point.

She giggles at his attentions. "That tickles, Arthur," she says, and immediately realizes she's said the wrong thing, because he continues unabated, and she squirms and pushes at his hands, taking them in hers and guiding them to her breasts. _That should sufficiently distract him._

It works, and he is back kissing her, slow and sweet, yet still full of passion. One hand drops down to touch her, torment her. She moans at his touch, almost a purr, and she can feel his lips smile against hers.

xXx

"You're lucky, actually," Merlin says to Haylan as they walk to the laundry.

"I am?"

"Yes. You get the post-Gwen Arthur. _I_ had to deal with pre-Gwen Arthur."

"Huh?"

"When I first arrived here, Arthur was completely a spoiled prince. Arrogant. Rude. Okay, he's still arrogant, but he's not _as_ rude. Gwen has been a very positive influence on him and how he behaves and how he treats others. Though I do like to think that I've had a small hand in that as well, but he'd never admit that."

"He scares me," Haylan admits.

"He's all bark. Mostly bark. I have been in the stocks more than once," Merlin says, smiling.

"You have?"

"Yes, but that was years ago. Before we understood each other. Pre-Gwen Arthur. She… _stabilizes_ him. She and I, that's what we do: She reminds him of his heart, I keep his feet on the ground."

Merlin introduces Haylan to the women in the laundry, explaining that he is Arthur's new manservant. He cannot help but notice a few of the younger laundresses batting their eyelashes at the new handsome young man.

"All right. I'll introduce you to some of the knights," Merlin says, pulling a suddenly-reluctant Haylan out the door.

xXx

Guinevere sits forward, forcing Arthur backward. "Guinevere, what…?" he asks, surprised. She turns, pushing him back down on the bench, straddling him.

"Oh," he says, just as her lips close around his earlobe, teeth nibbling, her tongue tracing the outer edge of his ear, sending gooseflesh down the entire side of his body, and he shivers.

Her tongue darts into his ear for just a moment, feather-light, and he shivers again. She giggles, places a wet kiss on his neck, and leans back slightly, gazing down at him as she trails her fingers down his chest.

"I'll remember that spot, you know," she taunts him, her right hand tracing the scars on his left side. _The Questing Beast. The Great Dragon. The assasin's lance._

"Promise?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"You need to ask?" Gwen leans back down, kissing him in the same languid manner that he set as she adjusts her knees and slides herself down over him, around him. She sits back, kneeling astride him, using her legs to move up and down on him, arching back slightly as his hands come up to cup her breasts.

"Ohhh…" Arthur moans as Gwen tortures him by keeping her movements at the same leisurely pace, unhurried, savoring.

His sword-roughened palms stroke her stiff nipples, the friction there sending delicious ripples down her abdomen to the juncture of her thighs, and she leans further back, her hands bracing on his thighs behind her.

Arthur's right hand skims down her chest to caress her stomach just briefly before wrapping around her back, pulling her back down. _I need to kiss her._

"Come here," he whispers huskily, coaxing her shoulders down. Her full lips, swollen already from his kisses, meld with his, tongues immediately searching one another out.

Gwen's legs straighten and extend behind her, twining with Arthur's and she slowly increases the tempo, moving faster and with slightly more urgency. She takes his face in between her hands as she kisses him, her slender hands holding his powerful jaw and neck, her thumbs tracing the stubble forming on his cheeks.

_She has more power over me with one tiny finger than an entire army of men,_ he thinks, surrendering completely to her, his arms thrown up over his head in abandon.

"Arthur…" she breathes his name, nuzzling his nose with hers a moment before pressing her forehead to his and pecking his lips a few times.

She leans up a little, supporting herself on her hands, and gazes down at him.

"Touch me, Arthur," she says softly, and his hands automatically come down from above his head to come around her, holding her a moment before dragging lightly down her back, caressing with his fingertips.

His eyes open and he sees her staring down at him, her beautiful almond-shaped eyes dark with passion, her dewy succulent lips parted slightly. She bites her lower lip as she watches him, and he spurs her on with his hips, prompting her to move faster, harder.

Arthur leans his head up to latch onto her breast, and she brings one hand up to support his head, holding him to her.

"Yes," she whispers, her hand gripping his head tightly, keeping him there while she feels the warmth of her impending release start to spread through her, building, building until she can no longer contain it and she cries out, her voice cracking.

She releases his head so that she can kiss him. His own climax is very close, and he throws his head back, pressing it into the upholstery behind for a moment before pulling Gwen in closer so he can bury his face in her neck, kissing it as his release erupts from him. He inhales her scent into his nostrils as his seed rushes forth into her; an exchange of sorts. His whole body stills, his arms locked around her, manhood locked within her.

Arthur gradually relaxes, sinking back down onto the chaise, and he sighs as his arms loosen around her while his feet twitch in the aftermath of his climax. He drops his head back and gathers her in his arms, holding her tenderly, smoothing her hair as she rests her head on his chest, snuggling into him.

xXx

"I think we're good. I can hear them talking," Merlin says, head leaning slightly towards the door. "The hard part is listening like this without looking like you're, um, creepy," he adds with a lopsided half-smile. "Go ahead," he indicates that Haylan should knock.

The boy looks down at the tray in his hands. "How do I…?" he asks. _How do I knock with this tray in my hands?_

Merlin looks at him. Haylan sets his face, determined. _Okay._ He balances the tray on one hand and reaches to knock with the other. He almost drops the tray.

"Haylan. Set it down, for heaven's sake," Merlin laughs, pointing at a bench nearby.

"Oh. Right." He does so, and knocks.

"Come," Arthur's voice from within.

Merlin nods, and Haylan opens the door. As predicted, Gwen is in her dressing gown, but completely demure as she sits delicately on her chaise by the window, some needlework on her lap.

"Dinner, my lord, my lady," Haylan says, bringing the tray to the table. Merlin hangs in the background, giving Gwen a smile and a wave.

"Oh, did I request dinner in our chambers this evening?" Arthur asks, fixing the new servant in his stare.

"Sire, Lord Merlin recommended that you might prefer it," he says, "I do not believe you expressed a preference. My lord."

"Hmm. Well. Since the queen is in her dressing gown, it would be appropriate, wouldn't it?" he asks, face twitching away a smile that only Merlin sees.

"Sire," Haylan says, a noncommittal agreement.

Gwen stands and joins them, and Haylan quickly pulls her chair out for her. She smiles at him and sits as Arthur strides to the table as well.

"All right, then, let's see how you do, Holden," Arthur says.

"Haylan," he corrects automatically, then quickly adds, "Sire," shooting Merlin a panicked look.

Arthur winks at Gwen, then says, "Very good, Haylan."

"Sire?"

"Don't be afraid to speak up."

"What?" _That was a test?_

"Ask Merlin. Or Queen Guinevere. If you're going to be my manservant, you need to know this. Listen well, as I'll not say it again: I will respect you a lot more if I know you have a spine. I can be a right pain in the ass sometimes, and if you lie down and take it from me all the time, it'll just encourage me to continue to be a pain in the ass. Be a man, and I'll treat you as such. Well, I'll try to, anyway, most of the time."

Haylan is shocked. Gwen and Merlin exchange a secret smile between them.

"Yes, Sire," Haylan squeaks.

"Thank you, you may go. You can return in an hour to collect the tray."

"Yes, Sire," Haylan says, turning to leave.

"Haylan," Arthur calls after him.

"Yes?"

"If what I just told you leaves this room I'll put you in the stocks so fast your head will spin."


	31. Chapter 31

Two days later.

"You remember where?" Gwen asks Sir Leon. She ambushed him on his way in from the training grounds.

"Of course," Leon smiles. "It's an excellent idea, Gwen."

"Thanks. Merlin says he will keep Arthur occupied for us."

"Occupied?"

"No idea what he's got up his sleeve," she shrugs.

"Could be anything," he laughs.

"How many men do you think you'll need?"

He thinks. "Probably ten. Plus at least one large wagon and horses."

She nods. "Tomorrow, then?"

"I'll talk to the men."

"Thank you, Leon," she says, laying her hand on his arm. "Oh, and Leon?"

"Yes, my lady?"

"This is a surprise, so do impress on them to keep their mouths shut."

He nods with a smile, and leaves to go join his men.

She turns, and almost bumps into Merlin. "Oh! Merlin, sorry!" she exclaims as he reaches his hand out, steadying her.

"Entirely my fault, Gwen," he laughs.

"Heading in for lunch?" she asks.

"Actually, I'm going down to the archives to look for more books. I know there have to be more down there," he says, pursing his lips thoughtfully.

"Perhaps I can get the keys to the vault from Arthur sometime. I'll bet there are some things in there that you might find useful as well."

"Don't know if he'd allow that."

She waves her hand dismissively. "He can come with us, then. We have nothing to hide."

"Not anymore," he smiles.

"Would you like some company?" she asks.

"Of course," he says, offering his arm. She takes it and they walk inside together.

"So am I glowing today?" she asks, teasing him.

"A bit, yes," he laughs, and she joins him.

They walk a bit further, and she decides to ask him something that's been on her mind. "So Merlin, do you know of anyone else that has magic? Has anyone else come forward?"

"No, not yet. Some people may still be hiding, thinking it's a trap of some sort," he frowns. "Others may just be keeping to themselves. Who knows, they may be happy staying underground. And I'm sure a lot of people have left Camelot for other kingdoms."

"That's too bad."

"Yes. But of course there may be people out there with magic who don't realize it yet, too. Those are the ones I'm most interested in."

They descend the stairs leading to the archives.

"Why is that?" Gwen asks.

"So I can help them. Help them use their gifts in a positive way. For the good of the people."

"Of course."

"Do you… do you think that Arthur might eventually let me take on students? You know, an apprentice or something?"

"I think if you presented it that way, he would. That you want to instill the proper values of magic use in others; to ensure that it is wielded for good."

Merlin nods, and they turn a corner. Suddenly a mouse scurries across the floor, and Gwen yelps in surprise, laughing.

"Silly thing. Startled me!" she laughs, watching it disappear under a crack in the wall. No. Not a wall. _There's a door there. I've never noticed that before._

"Gwen?" Merlin asks as she steps away from him, in the opposite direction of the archives.

She waves her hand behind her, dismissively, as she walks to the hidden door.

"What's this?" Merlin asks, coming up behind her.

She reaches up and sweeps a dust-encased cobweb from the door, wincing at the cloud that it causes.

Merlin coughs, and she reaches down for the slightly rusted handle. She pulls.

"It's stuck."

"Is it locked?" Merlin peeks over her shoulder.

"There doesn't appear to be a lock."

"Here, let me try," he says, reaching down. He pulls, and it groans, but still nothing. "Hmm," he grumbles, then fixes the handle in his stare, flashing his eyes at it, and the door springs free.

"Thank you, Merlin," Gwen says, walking in.

"Happy to be of assistance."

"You're just happy to be able to use your magic without fear," she says over her shoulder at him, her brown eyes scanning the surprisingly large room.

He laughs, and walks to one wall while Gwen strolls slowly up the middle of the room.

Merlin pulls back a heavy red curtain, thick with dust.

Guinevere blinks as a bright shaft of sunlight intrudes on the room, surrounding her where she stands in the center.

"Oh…" she looks around, finding herself in the center of a perfectly circular sunbeam. She looks down, and under her feet she can make out a smaller circle. She steps back and sees the faint outline of the Pendragon crest etched into the stone floor.

"What is it, Gwen?"

"I need a broom."

"A broom?"

"Come here and look."

Merlin steps over, and she points. He holds his hand down, his palm facing the floor, mutters a word, and the dust blows away. The dragon from the crest is there, plain as day.

"More," she whispers.

"Step back," he says, and she steps out of the sunbeam. Merlin repeats his action, using both hands this time, and clears the entire circle.

"That looks like…" he starts, stepping back to join her.

"This is where it goes."

"Wow," Merlin says, crouching down to study the carved floor.

"Oh!" Gwen exclaims, her hand to her stomach.

"What is it, Gwen?" Merlin stands, concerned. _Baby is fine, what…?_

"I felt him. A small flutter. When I looked down at the crest in the floor. It couldn't be, though, could it? Surely it's too early."

"You're glowing again," he says, approaching her. "May I?" he holds his hand out towards her stomach.

"Of course," she drops her hand.

Merlin gently places his palm on her stomach, and closes his eyes. Gwen watches, interested. She feels the same small flutter again, and a smile spreads across Merlin's face.

He drops his hand and grins at Gwen. "He's just happy. He… hmm. How do I say this without it sounding strange?"

"Just say it."

"He knows you're doing something special for Arthur. He can feel the love between the two of you, and he knows he is a product of that love. So, um, things like this make him happy."

"He _knows?_"

"Well, not consciously. He… senses it. Feels it. Here: close your eyes, and think about, oh, Elyan."

"Okay," she does, and a small smile crosses her face.

"Now…" he pauses trying to think of someone more neutral, "Geoffrey."

"Geoffrey?"

"Yes."

"Okay," the smile slips away, her face expressionless.

"Now, um, Morgana."

She scowls furiously.

"Uther."

Pity.

"Arthur."

Her face brightens immediately, her pulse quickens, and she feels warm and secure. Beautiful. Safe. _Loved._

She opens her eyes. "I understand."

xXx

Guinevere feels Arthur stir beside her. She opens one eye, watching surreptitiously. He moves to get out of bed, so she grabs him, pulling him back in.

"Whoa!" he says, surprised. "I didn't know you were awake."

"I'm not," she mutters, snuggling into him. "But I don't want you to get up yet."

"But…" he tries.

"No."

"I…"

"Nope."

"_Guinevere,_" he tries.

She scoots up higher, leaning over him, and kisses him softly, nibbling at his lower lip just a little.

"You don't play fair," he moans, pulling her lips back down to his, wrapping his arms around her.

_"What are we going to do with Arthur in the morning, when the knights head out with the cart?" Merlin had asked. "He'll see them leaving. I can't keep him away _all_ day."_

_ Gwen smiles. "I'll make sure he stays in our chambers for most of the morning."_

_ "How are you…_ Oh. _Never mind."_

Arthur kisses a path down her neck, and Gwen knows her plan is a success. She leans over and lightly bites his ear before closing her lips around his earlobe, and his hand slides down to hold her backside, pulling her closer to him.

He rolls them over, so he is above her and captures her lips with his again as his hands travel the familiar contours of her delicious body. "You always feel so good," he mutters between kisses, "so soft."

She feels his hand skim along her ribcage, down to her hip, as if illustrating his point, and she runs her fingertips down his back. He shivers at the sensation, and she smiles against his lips.

A large clattering, crashing sound reaches their ears, from outside. The direction of the courtyard. Arthur lifts his head. "What the hell was that?"

_Men. Give them one small task to do, and they somehow manage to turn it into a huge undertaking, a string of catastrophes in their wake._ "I'm sure it's just a cart that knocked over in the courtyard. Probably a vendor with a wagon in need of too much repair already," she says, spinning a half-truth. She caresses Arthur's chest, trying to draw his attention away.

"Maybe I should go ch— oh!" Arthur starts to get up, but Gwen's crafty hands have suddenly convinced him otherwise, silently compelling him to stay in the bed.

She pulls his head back down to hers with her free hand, kissing him hungrily, her tongue darting, caressing his, quite effectively making him forget about the ruckus outside.

"You need to finish what you've started," she says quietly, her lips brushing his ear.

"What _I've_ started?" he asks, eyebrows raising as he gazes down at her. "You were the one that wouldn't let me out of the bed."

"I don't see you complaining," she teases, bending her knee to rub her leg seductively against him, her small foot sliding on his calf, her inner thigh sliding against his hip.

Arthur groans and scoots lower to kiss her breasts, suckling, nibbling, as her hands move into his hair, fingers dancing on his scalp. He drags his tongue lightly down the center of her stomach, trailing liquid fire. His tongue dips briefly into her navel before he feathers kisses all over her stomach, smiling at the slight extra now present.

Lower still, he settles between her thighs, kissing the tender skin there before delving into her womanhood, his tongue touching, sliding, swirling. Gwen arches her back and grips the bedclothes in her fists, crying out softly at the contact.

Arthur's tongue delves deep into her, thrusting inside, as his hands reach up for her breasts, palms grazing her nipples. She gasps his name and places her hands over his, squeezing them against her before running them up his arms, enjoying the feel of his muscled arms under her hands.

He flicks his tongue against her most sensitive point, and she grips his arms, digging her nails in. He gently kisses her moist folds a few more times, slowly, indulgently, then turns his head and lightly bites the skin of her inner thigh before crawling up over her, kissing a path back up to her lips, parted and waiting.

"Tease," Gwen jokes just before his lips close over hers, her taste still on his tongue as it melds with hers.

"Oh really?" he purrs at her, dropping his hips forward and entering her, swiftly and easily

"Oh!" she cries out as he pulls back and thrusts forward again, his hand trailing at her thigh, pulling her leg around him.

Gwen reaches up and runs her hands from his chest around to his back, pulling him closer, craving the feel of him against her. She wraps her other leg around him as well, and he groans, dropping to his elbows over her, worming his hands under her shoulders.

"God, I love you." A plaintive gasp, whispered against her neck as he moves over her, carrying her with him as his head spins, a spiraling freefall of heady sensation.

"Ar… I… oh…" Guinevere tries to return the sentiment, but the throes of her climax as it bursts forth from her prevent her from being able to form a complete thought. She pushes her head back into the pillows and clings to him, gasping and panting.

Arthur manages a smug smile watching his beautiful wife explode with passion, her bliss carrying him to his own release. He holds her close and kisses her deeply as he pushes deep inside, motionless save the pulsing of his manhood within her, surging into her.

He resumes breathing, exhaling into her neck before rolling over, pulling her with him. She snuggles onto his chest, content.

xXx

Gwen pads to the doors of their chamber and opens them a crack, peeking out just in time to see Haylan tucking a flower into Daisy's hair while she blushes and looks coyly up at him.

Smiling, Gwen turns and goes back into the room and waits a few seconds for the inevitable knock.

It comes and Arthur bids them enter. He is dressed already, and Daisy, still slightly pink, hurries to assist Guinevere.

Haylan bustles about tidying up, gathering laundry, inquiring about breakfast, while Arthur looks over some parchments his new servant has brought in for him to read.

"Is the room ready?" Gwen asks Daisy behind the changing screen.

"Yes. Half the staff has been down there cleaning. Place should be sparkling in no time," she says.

"Good, thank you."

"Does he suspect anything?" Daisy whispers.

"I don't think so. What was that clatter earlier?"

"The cart had a wheel that turned out to be in bad shape. It broke and they had to fix it," she frowns.

"It was loud," Gwen complains.

"Sorry, my lady."

"Not your fault, but Arthur almost went to investigate," Gwen laughs.

"I'm sure you were able to, um, distract him," Daisy giggles.

"Daisy!" Gwen turns and grins at the girl, whose blush returns.

"Sorry, I—"

"It's all right," she laughs. "I like your flower, by the way," she adds pointedly.

Daisy looks down and bites her lower lip.

"He is a handsome young man, Daisy, and you are a pretty and clever young woman."

"You're not angry?"

"Of course not. Just be careful."

"Be careful?"

"Don't let him push you around," she smiles knowingly at her maid.

"Oh," the girl's face brightens, "I understand. And you're all set, my lady."

The two walk out from behind the screen, and Gwen walks to the table.

"What were the two of you gossiping about back there," Arthur asks.

"Nothing that concerns you, my king. Girl talk" Gwen says dismissively.

"My lord, if there is nothing else, I'll take these down to the laundry and return presently with your breakfast," Haylan says, arms now laden with a basket.

"Very good," Arthur waves his hand, not looking up from his parchment.

Daisy leaves and Haylan turns to follow her, but Gwen stops him, her hand on his arm.

"My lady?"

"Haylan," Gwen says softly, "while I do not disapprove of your attentions toward my handmaiden, your intentions _are_ honorable?"

Arthur peeks up at her over his parchment, observing his wife. Her eyebrows are just slightly raised, and he's heard that tone before, but not from her. _Where? Caerleon. The question that is not really a question. Annis would be proud, indeed._ He smiles to himself and returns his attention to his reading.

"Y-yes, my lady," Haylan says, taken aback at this different side of the queen, "of course. My mother raised me right, I promise you." _That look even looks like the one Mum gives me when she's not pleased._

"Of course she did," Gwen says, patting his arm and releasing him. He practically sprints from the room.

Haylan returns with breakfast, and Gwen and Arthur have just started to tuck in when Merlin strolls in, sitting down opposite Gwen.

"Good morning, Merlin," she says.

"Morning? It's nearly noon," Merlin laughs.

"_I_ was fully prepared to get up and start the day much earlier, but _Guinevere_— ow!" his words are cut off when Gwen kicks him under the table.

Merlin laughs again and reaches across to snag a sausage from Gwen's plate.

"Merlin!" Arthur scolds.

"What? She's not going to eat them all," he defends himself, taking a bite of the sausage.

Gwen laughs, and hands Merlin a hunk of cheese as well. "Thank you," he nods to her.

Arthur looks up, toward the window. "Quiet today. Where is everyone?"

"Some of the knights are practicing," Merlin says, striving to be as vague as possible. "No council meeting today, so the lords are probably going about their own business, whatever that may be. Oh, and Sir Leon and some of the lads went out on patrol into the woods. Just another round of searches," he says casually.

"Which lads?" Arthur asks, taking a drink.

"Um, Gwaine, Elyan, Percival. All your favorites are gone."

"I do not have any favorites!" Arthur protests.

"Yes, you do," Merlin and Gwen chorus in reply.

"I—" Arthur starts to argue, but gives up. _No point._

"They took Drake and the twins with them as well," Merlin adds.

"So who's overseeing the training?"

"No training. Some of them are practicing on their own. I did spot Sir Kay wandering among them, though."

"Hmm. Maybe I should…"

"Um, Arthur?" Merlin interrupts.

"What?"

"You remember what I said before, about the dragon?"

"Which part?"

"The part about him wanting to meet you." Merlin's eyes dart briefly to Gwen, who is finishing her breakfast as if nothing were unusual. _She's really good at this._

"_Today?_"

Merlin nods. "Yes. Today would be a good day to meet the dragon."

Arthur looks at Gwen, and she says, "I think that's a good idea."

"You'll come?" he asks her.

"No," she says. "I'll be staying here."

"But…"

"Arthur, the dragon wants to meet _you._ He will meet Gwen another time," Merlin says.

"Yes, Arthur, he's right. This isn't my meeting."

"But I want you to come," he says, taking her hand.

_He's afraid,_ she realizes. "Love, it'll be fine," she says quietly, kissing his fingers. "Merlin won't let him torch you," she smiles, teasing.

"I'm not afraid," he says defensively. She just raises an eyebrow at him.

"Of course not."


	32. Chapter 32

Merlin leads Arthur through the woods to the large clearing where he generally rendezvous with Kilgarrah.

"Where are we going?" Arthur asks.

"Not too far."

"Will he be waiting for us there?"

"No. I'll have to call him. Um, summon him."

"How do you do that?"

"I just call him. In the dragon tongue."

Arthur stops walking. "You speak dragon."

Merlin turns around. "_Obviously._ Dragonlord." He turns and continues walking.

_He wouldn't be leading me to my death. He wouldn't be leading me to my death. He's a wizard. If he wanted me dead, he'd have done already._ "Merlin," he ventures.

"Yeah?"

"The dragon… it isn't going to… _do_ anything, is it?"

"_He_ will not harm you in the slightest, Arthur. He will not endanger you, Gwen, or Camelot."

"How can you be certain?"

"Because I told him he couldn't."

"Oh, well, that's reassuring."

"Arthur," Merlin turns back to Arthur, stopping again, "when I command the dragon, he has _no choice_ but to obey. It's not like when you give me an order."

"Hey!"

"All I mean is that even though you're the king and I _should_ obey your command, I still have free will. I _could_ choose not to obey."

"Which you have."

"Repeatedly. But that's not the point. The point is, I have a choice when someone tells me what to do. The dragon _cannot_ disobey a dragonlord. It is not possible."

"Wow. That's… impressively scary, actually. I'm suddenly very glad you're my friend."

"Wow, almost a compliment," Merlin chuckles. "Come on."

They walk in silence a short distance more, then suddenly the trees clear and they are in the middle of a large grassy field. _Looks like training grounds,_ Arthur thinks.

"Here we are."

"Hey," Arthur says tentatively, looking around. "Isn't this where I supposedly killed him?"

Merlin nods. "Yes. So. I'm going to call him now. I can either do it the loud and dramatic way or the quiet unobtrusive way, like I did in the courtyard. He'll respond to either."

"So?"

"So… I don't want to, um, throw more at you than you can handle. Can't have you losing it again by seeing me be all wizardy."

Arthur scowls at him and waves his hand. "Proceed. Whichever way you want."

"All right," Merlin says, "loud and dramatic it is."

Arthur looks at him.

"It's more fun," Merlin says, grinning, and Arthur actually laughs.

Merlin looks to the sky, closes his eyes a second, and throws his head back.

"O, Dragon…" he starts, his voice taking on a gravelly, otherworldly quality that raises the hair on the back of Arthur's neck. His hand instinctively lowers to the hilt of his sword.

_Cabbage Head. You don't need your sword. It won't do any good anyway,_ he chides himself. _Wait, did I just call myself 'Cabbage Head?'_

A few minutes pass. They feel like hours to Arthur, but Merlin seems completely at ease, sitting on the stump of a tree, whistling to himself until Arthur's glare silences him.

"You're sure he heard you?"

Merlin looks up sharply, and points. The faint sound of leathery dragon wings slicing the air reaches their ears, growing louder.

"Oh, I forgot to mention that my powers work on wyvern as well," Merlin says, just as Kilgarrah comes into view.

"What? You mean…" Arthur asks, recalling the couple times they've crossed paths with the dragon-cousins.

He doesn't get to complete his question because the Great Dragon has just come to a graceful landing in the clearing directly in front of them.

"Ah, King Arthur, we meet at last," Kilgarrah says, inclining his great head down towards the two men.

Much to Merlin's surprise, Arthur drops to one knee, a reverential gesture to the dragon. The wizard smiles a small smile.

"I am honored to meet you, Great Dragon," Arthur says, lifting his head.

"Stand, Arthur, you need not genuflect to me," the dragon says kindly, bowing his own head respectfully.

Arthur stands, and stares up at him, using different eyes than the ones he used years ago, when he viewed the dragon as an enemy, a threat. Now he is curious, nervous, fascinated. Waiting.

"What is it, young king?" Kilgarrah asks, tilting his head.

"I… I am trying to make sense of this. Seeing you. _Speaking_ with you. There's been so much to take in."

"Indeed, my lord. Much has been happening. Your queen. Your new allies. Magic. _Merlin_ having magic. The truth of your birth. The witch Morgana still lurking in the shadows. All this and a tiny prince on the way as well. It's a wonder you haven't collapsed from exhaustion," he chuckles.

Arthur glances at Merlin, "You tell him everything, do you?"

"No one need tell me these things, Arthur," Kilgarrah answers. "I see much that is plain and much that is hidden from sight."

"Can you tell me, then, what of Morgana? Will we find her? Will we defeat her?"

"So headstrong, so impatient," the dragon says. "The future is a tricky thing. Many futures are possible, Arthur. Which future you receive depends one only one thing."

"Choices," Arthur supplies.

"Ah, yes, he is already more intelligent than his father before him," Kilgarrah says, looking at Merlin.

"Told you," Merlin replies from his seat on the tree stump.

"Yes, Arthur, choices. You are well acquainted with dealing with the consequences of your choices, I know this."

Arthur sighs, nodding.

"I wonder, do you know, however, that often your poorly-made choices were ones made out of stubborn pigheadedness, blind ignorance, or plain stupidity."

"Hey!"

"To your credit, though, you took ownership of those mistakes, did not shrink away from facing their consequences, and for that you should be commended. That is a far braver thing than facing any foe in battle."

"Thank you."

"_However,_ when you remembered that you were not alone, that you could and should depend on those closest to you, those that you love and trust above all others, your choices were infinitely better."

Arthur nods mutely, resignedly. "Agravaine was a mistake," he mutters.

"An honest mistake. He was family; naturally you would trust him. Your real mistake came when you did not listen to the voices of others that tried to warn you against him."

"I know that now," he says sadly.

"Yes. A lesson learned. But do always remember that you are not alone, King. Looking to others is not a sign of weakness; it is a sign of intelligence. One person cannot do everything and be everything. It is simply not possible. You are a fortunate man in that you have a wise queen who knows the people and is their heart. And you also have a new advisor who, if you would learn to listen to him from time to time, may have something of value to offer," Kilgarrah continues, nodding at Merlin with a reptilian smile.

Arthur chuckles despite himself. "And Gaius," he adds quietly, remembering his conversation with him after he was accused of treason. The physician's meaningful words have resided deep within his heart ever since that day.

"Yes, the court physician. Wise, very wise. He has seen many winters; more than most. Anyone who has lived that long through these times is worthy of consideration indeed. Not only did he survive the great purge, he persevered and thrived. Crafty, that one. Appreciate him."

"I do," Arthur says simply. He opens his mouth a moment and then closes it, undecided about the words on his tongue.

"Speak your mind, Arthur. Remember I am forbidden from doing you any harm."

"Heh," Arthur laughs just once. "I… I want to… that is I feel I should… apologize for my father's treatment of you and your kind. I know it cannot bring back your kin, but please know that my attitudes are very different from his."

"Thank you, Arthur," the dragon bows his massive head once more. "Your apology means more to me than you realize, young king."

"You deserve respect. I know this now. Ignorance breeds hatred; hatred breeds fear. If I learned nothing else from my father, I learned that."

"Thank you. I am sorry for the damage I caused to your kingdom and its people when I was freed. Please understand, I was—"

"I do understand," Arthur interrupts.

"Do you now?" the dragon lifts his head up and back slightly, surprised.

"You were angry at my father for keeping you imprisoned. Seeking recompense for the slaughter and elimination of not only the rest of your kind, but of people who practiced magic and innocents as well."

The dragon nods, impressed.

"I promise you there will be no need for any future displays of that nature," Arthur says simply, a very mild threat behind his words.

Kilgarrah laughs heartily. "Arthur, do you honestly think that your friend the dragonlord would allow me to go on another rampage such as that?"

Arthur smiles, and glances at Merlin. "He had better not."

Merlin looks up and shrugs noncommittally, grinning.

"How… how _did_ you get free, anyway?" Arthur asks.

_Oh, no,_ Merlin thinks.

"I am a dragon, King. A creature of magic. Do you think that chains could hold me indefinitely?" Kilgarrah says casually. Merlin breathes again.

Arthur shrugs. "I suppose not."

The dragon chuckles again, to himself. Arthur watches him, wondering what his little joke with himself is.

"Kilgarrah," Arthur says, "that's your name, right?"

He nods.

"Kilgarrah, I want you to know that you need no longer hide yourself out of fear. Now, this is not to say that your presence won't frighten the daylights out of most people, but I want you to know that you are truly free under my rule. And I will do my best to assure the people that you are no threat to them."

"Thank you, Arthur," he says simply. "Arthur," he starts again, "will you make me a promise?"

"That depends on what it is," Arthur says cautiously.

"Promise me that you will stay true to yourself. I believe your queen once gave you this same advice."

Arthur nods.

"Follow your heart; go where it leads you, do what it tells you. You have a destiny. You know what it is. It is time to realize that destiny, and you need your queen and your wizard by your side. If you forget your heart, look to Guinevere. If you forget your head, look to Merlin."

Arthur stares up at the great beast, his scales shining in the sunlight, tail swishing along the grass as he sits regally in the clearing, lording over the wilderness. He swallows and nods mutely.

"Love your son. Show him the love that you felt you never received from Uther. Train him, yes, teach him to be a king, yes, but do not forget to teach him to be a _man_ as well. Love all the children Guinevere will bear you this way, and Camelot will indeed be great for a very long time."

_All the children? How many will we have? Dare I ask?_ "I will make those promises to you, Kilgarrah," he says, leaving his thoughts checked for now.

Kilgarrah nods his head once more. "I wish to bestow a blessing on you."

"You do?" Arthur's eyes grow wide.

"Yes. Place your hand on my head," he says, crouching down and dropping his giant head to where Arthur can reach him.

Arthur hesitantly reaches out with his hand, laying his palm flat on the dragon's forehead. _Feels warmer than I thought he would. Dry, not slimy. Rather like tiles, actually. Hard._

Kilgarrah whispers words that Arthur cannot decipher. _The dragon tongue,_ he thinks. His arm tingles slightly, the sensation traveling from his hand on the dragon's head up his arm and into his chest, stopping at his heart. It is not unpleasant; a warm sensation, but unlike anything he has ever felt before.

The feeling drains away and the dragon stops his chant. Arthur takes this as his cue to lift his hand. The dragon lifts his head and breathes gently on the king, enveloping him in a surprisingly pleasant blast of warm air.

"Thank you?" Arthur says uncertainly when Kilgarrah finishes, drawing forth another chuckle from the dragon.

"I did not expect you to fully trust me immediately, Arthur," he sighs, "but it is a good start."

"May I ask what it was you said?"

"No, you may not."

"Fair enough," Arthur allows.

"All you need know, King, is that you have a bright future ahead of you. Provided you keep your heart and your head and make your choices wisely."

Arthur nods.

"It is time for you to go back to Camelot. I believe I have kept you long enough," Kilgarrah says, looking at Merlin again, who smirks. _So he knows,_ the wizard thinks.

"It was an honor, Great Dragon," Arthur says, nodding to him.

"The honor is mine, King Arthur." Kilgarrah spreads his massive wings, but Arthur stops him.

"Kilgarrah," he calls.

The dragon folds his wings back in. "Yes?"

"Thank you. For the advice. For the blessing. For all the ways you've aided us, even if I don't yet know what they all are. I want you to know that I appreciate all these things."

"You are most welcome, Arthur," he says, and with that, he spreads his wings again, pushes with his stout legs, and takes gracefully to the air.

Arthur stares up after him until he is out of sight.

"Magnificent, isn't he?" Merlin's voice behind him pulls him back down to earth.

"A bit cryptic at times, but yes, fascinating."

"Let's go," Merlin says, plucking Arthur's sleeve.

"Okay."

They walk a few paces into the woods, then Merlin can't resist any more. "I've gotten to ride him a couple times, you know."

"You have not," Arthur says, disbelief clear in his voice.

"I have. It's _amazing,_" he gushes. "To be in the air like that, above everything, the wind blowing your hair…"

"You are lying. The dragon would never let you ride him like he was a common horse."

"Oh, so now you think you know him so well? Well, I promise you, I've ridden him at least twice. And once he carried me in his talons because I was nearly dead."

"Is that so?"

"It is. And I still say that flying was the most amazing thing I've ever experienced. And I'm a wizard, so that's saying a lot."

"Merlin," Arthur stops walking and turns to him. "I refuse to believe that Kilgarrah let you hitch a ride on his back."

"Arthur, you're forgetting one thing," Merlin says.

"Dragonlord," Arthur sighs, turning away and resuming his walk.

"Dragonlord," Merlin repeats, grinning.

xXx

"They're coming!" Peter races into the castle, breathing heavily.

"Thank you, Peter," Gwen says, standing to head towards the secret room she and Merlin had found.

Arthur and Merlin enter the courtyard. There are a few people bustling about, but it is still quiet. "Hmm," Arthur frowns. "I would have thought Guinevere would be out here to meet us."

"Well, let's go find her then, shall we?" Merlin suggests. Arthur looks sideways at him. "What?" Merlin says innocently.

Arthur rolls his eyes and strides up the steps to the castle. Merlin keeps up, trying to lead the king in the right direction.

"Where would she be, do you think? Kitchens?" Arthur asks, heading that way.

_I'll let him have this one,_ Merlin thinks, following.

The kitchens are devoid of the queen, so Merlin speaks up. "She said something to me yesterday about the archives. Wanted to look up some plants or flowers or something like that," he tries. _Yes. Flowers. That's believable._

"Really? Oh. I'll just go up and wait for her, then," he says with a shrug, heading towards their chambers.

_No!_ "Why don't we go down there? I'm sure she'd like to see you."

"Merlin, I'm tired. I really don't feel like dragging all the way down there," Arthur says.

Merlin pulls his sleeve. "Oh, come on. It'll be fun. Maybe we can surprise her or something."

"Oh yes, very good, very chivalrous, jumping out and scaring the liver out of a pregnant woman," Arthur says, but he follows Merlin down anyway.

Merlin sees Peter walking up the stairs, casual as you please. He glances at the page, who nods very slightly. Merlin smiles and continues down.

They reach the end of the stairs and see two guards in their red capes standing against a wall.

"What are you two doing there?" Arthur asks. As he wanders over to them to investigate, one reaches over and pulls the handle to a door that Arthur has never noticed before.

"What the…" he asks, stepping forward. The guards nod respectfully as he slowly walks into the large room. The servants have outdone themselves. The dark wood is gleaming and the windows are spotless with fresh draperies hanging in them.

The Knights of Camelot are lined up along the walls, a sea of red and silver. Arthur surveys the sea of familiar faces, his trusted knights, standing at attention. His eyes move to the center of the room, where the Round Table has been placed. It has also been cleaned and polished, and it stands proudly in the center of the room as if it has grown from the spot, its surface glinting in the sunbeam like a living, breathing thing.

Behind the table and back a ways is Guinevere, standing unobtrusively, her hands clasped in front of her.

Arthur walks to the table, unable to speak, barely breathing, moved beyond words. _Guinevere did this. She had this brought here for me. I know she did._ He looks up at her and she smiles ever so slightly at him, sweetly. Her eyes are growing glassy with emotion as she watches him.

He places his hand on the table. It is warm, almost vibrating under his fingers. No one moves except Arthur and Merlin behind him. They all just watch their king appreciating the gift from his queen.

"Merlin," Arthur says quietly, knowing his advisor is right behind him. "What do these runes say? Can you read them?"

Merlin steps forward. "Yes," he says, walking around the table with Arthur, looking for the right one. _Aha._ "Courage," he points. "That's you."

Arthur nods. "That is what Grettir the Bridgekeeper called me on my quest," he says quietly.

Merlin motions to the next rune, to the right of Arthur's. "Magic."

"You, obviously."

He nods, and points to the next. "Strength."

_There they are again: Courage, Magic and Strength._ "Gwaine," he whispers.

"Loyalty."

"Leon."

"Honor."

"Elyan."

"Kindness."

"Percival."

Merlin pauses before the next rune. _This would have been Lancelot's place._ "Valor," he says.

Arthur pauses as well, as if he knows Merlin's thoughts. "Kay," he finally decides. _He has really come into his own lately._

Merlin nods, and moves to the next. "Perseverance."

Arthur's mind drifts back to the Great Dragon's words this morning. _He used that word._ "Gaius," he whispers, lifting his head, scanning the room, searching for the gentle old man. He finds him just inside the doors, a part of the scenery as he so often is. Arthur nods at the physician respectfully, and Gaius nods back, understanding. _He was here the first time, in that dismal ruin. He will be here again._

The last rune, to the immediate left of Arthur's seat. Merlin sets his hand on it. "Love."

Arthur smiles a small smile and holds his hand out to Guinevere. She comes forward and takes his hand. "This is your place. Beside me," he says quietly to her, running his hand over the rune.

"Always," she says, looking and smiling the smile she keeps only for him. He pulls her to him and wraps his arms around her waist, gazing down into her warm brown eyes.

Merlin turns and looks at Leon and Percival, raising his eyebrows at them. They nod and begin moving. The knights quietly exit, leaving their king and queen alone.

"Thank you," Arthur says, leaning down to kiss his wife.

"Oh!" she exclaims, and he stops.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

She takes his hand and moves it to her stomach.

"It's supposed to be too early to be able to feel him yet, but… well, just feel."

He presses his hand flat against her and closes his eyes. There is a tiny flutter, a rolling sensation against his palm, and his eyes fly open.

"What…" Arthur is aghast, but a huge grin spreads across his face. "He approves?"

"Very much so," she says, putting her hand over his for a moment before looking up at him with a half-lidded knowing smile.

"There you go with that look again," he mutters, dropping his head to kiss her, his hand sliding around to hold her again, pulling her close. She pushes upward into him, deepening the kiss, sliding her tongue between his lips which part automatically for her, his own tongue meeting hers.

Her hands creep up his chest and wind around his neck as he leans in, her soft lips sweet under his.

Slowly he pulls back and kisses her swiftly and softly one more time.

"I love you."

xXx

From the doorway, Merlin watches. He watches the sunlight cast on the table, the spotlessly clean stone floor where Arthur and Gwen stand glowing in its caring warmth. Or perhaps it was a subtle radiance borne of the contented child within Guinevere's womb.

Merlin smiles as understanding dawns on him

_The pieces are finally falling into place. Arthur is King, Guinevere his Queen. The future king is growing and thriving. And well-protected. The Round Table is here. The forging of Albion will surely be next. But first things first: my chambers. I have actual chambers._ He smiles to himself, then scowls briefly, remembering. _They still need sorting. But at least now it won't be so labor-intensive. Perhaps I can even relax with my feet up while I wave things into place._

_ Destiny is a fascinating thing, indeed,_ he muses, closing the doors behind him.

-End-


End file.
